‘Don’t take yourself so seriously’: what does this mean?

Those of us on the spectrum can be a bit intense.  At moments of quiet self reflection I recognise this in myself. 

I believe that two of the most powerful words in the English language are "for example", so here are some examples, the first one made-up, the other real.  

1.  Someone says something, in conversation, and it's wrong; worse, it's mainly right but they got some nuance wrong. 

2.  It's a topic you happen to know something about. 

3.  You feel that they need to understand where they've gone wrong, so you explain it. 

4.  Because they are NT and you aren't, their reaction isn't what you expect.  It might be a quizzical look or a comment which doesn't really tell you that they've received, analysed and understood your point.  So you suspect they still haven't got it, and you explain even more.  You might really focus on them (which, it turns out, can be a bit scary). 

5.  In fact, it isn't that they 'didn't get it', they simply don't care very much.   It was a 'throw away comment' in a conversation.  

6.  In my own case, I find that I have much greater commitment to errors of that sort than the NT person who made the comment.  They are having a lightweight chat, to pass the time.  It's a social ritual.  The act of exchanging words isn't really about passing information between them, it's a method of intuitive social bonding.  The fact that the words are not quite right is not that important.  

7.  NT people in the conversation may also have realised the error, but they just 'let it go'.  It's not important to them.  It wasn't the main topic of the conversation, it was a side issue.  Or they just quietly register (perhaps with mild amusement) that this person gets stuff like that wrong, but don't say anything.

8.  To them, perhaps, correcting the mistake is not as important as the risk of upsetting the person, so they simply don't.  Or they have a more muted reaction (like not replying, or being non-committal).  

Here's the real life example.  

I'm a professional photographer.  One of our friends is a chatty, caring, lovely, mature lady who is entirely visually illiterate.  Bless her, she couldn't tell a decent photograph from a bar of soap, but she thinks she's a gifted photographer (one of the worst cases of Dunning-Kruger you could imagine).

She tends to show her awful vacation snaps around to people and she actively seeks praise ("look at this one, I think this is great, don't you?  I could sell that, couldn't I?  That could be in a brochure!!!")  These dreadful photographs aren't just dull - they are almost offensively bad.  

The photographer inside me is screaming at me to put her right, to sit her down and explain really incredibly basic stuff such as Depth of Field, composition, sharpness, bokeh, white balance, the importance of shutter speed etc.  That's what my intuitive reaction would be.  

On an objective, intellectual basis, however, I know that if I did that, it would endanger the relationship, upset her, probably make her husband angry, and it would achieve nothing.  She would not go away thinking "I need to learn about this stuff", she'd go away thinking I was being horrid.  It would have no impact on her photography, but she'd be hurt, wounded, and upset.  

In the process, anyone who witnessed this would think I was being too intense, taking myself too seriously, too "up myself", that I needed to lighten-up, etc etc.  When I think about it wholistically, does it really matter?  No, it doesn't; her photography isn't even an important constituent in our relationship, it's based on much more than that.  But because I have ASD, that voice inside me is really, really loud.  Saying nothing is torture, but that's what I do.   

Personally, if I was making a fool of myself going round asking for praise for really bad photography, I'd kind of want to know. 

But ultimately, she doesn't. 

She just wants to be told that her awful photographs are great, and she wants people to go 'ooh' and 'ah'.  Which most people do, some of them (those with even the faintest grasp of what constitutes good imagery) do this with complete insincerity, because the relationship is important and her silly self-indulgence over her own photography isn't.  What they're saying isn't true, and they know that, but she wants to hear praise, so they praise her.  

I think we sometimes have to be a bit like David Attenborough observing a different species.  That mentality helps me to get my head around situations like these ... though I don't always remember to do this, and still get accused of being too intense, and taking myself too seriously.

Hope that helps ... just my entirely subjective 'take' on your question.

Those of us on the spectrum can be a bit intense.  At moments of quiet self reflection I recognise this in myself. 

I believe that two of the most powerful words in the English language are "for example", so here are some examples, the first one made-up, the other real.  

1.  Someone says something, in conversation, and it's wrong; worse, it's mainly right but they got some nuance wrong. 

2.  It's a topic you happen to know something about. 

3.  You feel that they need to understand where they've gone wrong, so you explain it. 

4.  Because they are NT and you aren't, their reaction isn't what you expect.  It might be a quizzical look or a comment which doesn't really tell you that they've received, analysed and understood your point.  So you suspect they still haven't got it, and you explain even more.  You might really focus on them (which, it turns out, can be a bit scary). 

5.  In fact, it isn't that they 'didn't get it', they simply don't care very much.   It was a 'throw away comment' in a conversation.  

6.  In my own case, I find that I have much greater commitment to errors of that sort than the NT person who made the comment.  They are having a lightweight chat, to pass the time.  It's a social ritual.  The act of exchanging words isn't really about passing information between them, it's a method of intuitive social bonding.  The fact that the words are not quite right is not that important.  

7.  NT people in the conversation may also have realised the error, but they just 'let it go'.  It's not important to them.  It wasn't the main topic of the conversation, it was a side issue.  Or they just quietly register (perhaps with mild amusement) that this person gets stuff like that wrong, but don't say anything.

8.  To them, perhaps, correcting the mistake is not as important as the risk of upsetting the person, so they simply don't.  Or they have a more muted reaction (like not replying, or being non-committal).  

Here's the real life example.  

I'm a professional photographer.  One of our friends is a chatty, caring, lovely, mature lady who is entirely visually illiterate.  Bless her, she couldn't tell a decent photograph from a bar of soap, but she thinks she's a gifted photographer (one of the worst cases of Dunning-Kruger you could imagine).

She tends to show her awful vacation snaps around to people and she actively seeks praise ("look at this one, I think this is great, don't you?  I could sell that, couldn't I?  That could be in a brochure!!!")  These dreadful photographs aren't just dull - they are almost offensively bad.  

The photographer inside me is screaming at me to put her right, to sit her down and explain really incredibly basic stuff such as Depth of Field, composition, sharpness, bokeh, white balance, the importance of shutter speed etc.  That's what my intuitive reaction would be.  

On an objective, intellectual basis, however, I know that if I did that, it would endanger the relationship, upset her, probably make her husband angry, and it would achieve nothing.  She would not go away thinking "I need to learn about this stuff", she'd go away thinking I was being horrid.  It would have no impact on her photography, but she'd be hurt, wounded, and upset.  

In the process, anyone who witnessed this would think I was being too intense, taking myself too seriously, too "up myself", that I needed to lighten-up, etc etc.  When I think about it wholistically, does it really matter?  No, it doesn't; her photography isn't even an important constituent in our relationship, it's based on much more than that.  But because I have ASD, that voice inside me is really, really loud.  Saying nothing is torture, but that's what I do.   

Personally, if I was making a fool of myself going round asking for praise for really bad photography, I'd kind of want to know. 

But ultimately, she doesn't. 

She just wants to be told that her awful photographs are great, and she wants people to go 'ooh' and 'ah'.  Which most people do, some of them (those with even the faintest grasp of what constitutes good imagery) do this with complete insincerity, because the relationship is important and her silly self-indulgence over her own photography isn't.  What they're saying isn't true, and they know that, but she wants to hear praise, so they praise her.  

I think we sometimes have to be a bit like David Attenborough observing a different species.  That mentality helps me to get my head around situations like these ... though I don't always remember to do this, and still get accused of being too intense, and taking myself too seriously.

Hope that helps ... just my entirely subjective 'take' on your question.