You still care that much about what other people think.

You can make and unmake things with a single lack of thought, have an ability over the very fabric of reality so run rampant you feel safer, in more control conversely, with it fettered...you can feel souls and warp men's minds and turn dead wood into a living, too-perfect tree; you have been an unwilling god among men, and you still stop to be bothered so, by what other people think of you. By what they might see.