What fly fishing taught me about caring what other people think

When I am casting my fly rod and I see other people looking at me, I suck at casting. That’s actually putting it mildly. I flail. I get snagged on branches. It does not look pretty. I am more concerned about whether they are laughing at me, than whether I am getting the line out to the water. That, in turn, means I am catching *zero* fish - and having the worst time.

The same thing happens when I am writing/doing readings/ or taking photos… if I care too much about what other people think or expect my work is atrocious. Rather than being confident in my knowledge, I flail at *whatever* thing I’m doing.

Letting go of other people's expectations is like untangling that fly-fishing line: messy but ultimately freeing. That may sound cheesy as hell, but bear with me here:

It starts with recognizing that their judgment is out of your control. When you're casting—or creating—it's your process, not theirs. Refocusing on the task itself, the rhythm of the rod, the feel of the water, or the intuitive pull during a reading, helps ground you in the present.

It's also about allowing imperfection. The best casts, the truest photographs, and the most powerful readings don't emerge from striving for perfection but from being fully engaged. You aren't here to be perfect for others—you’re here to connect with your craft, your spirit, and yourself.

And when you're snagged on a branch—literally or figuratively—it's a reminder that missteps are part of it all. You untangle, you recast, and you grow. Let go of the thought of their gaze and watch your line land where you want it.