Sometimes it feels like much of my life to date has been spent trying to please other people. That’s partly why I love writing. Right now it’s solely for me: my dream, my catharsis. The thought of putting stuff out there is scary, but I’m getting much better at discarding toxic opinions, and (after the initial blow), learn so much from genuine critical advice. It’s hard to remember that well meant, positive advice can as harmful, sometimes.
I heard somewhere that, statistically speaking, 10% of people will simply not like us, no matter what we do or how much we try. Whenever we decide to do something remarkable or even just different, this is when we’re most likely to encounter push-back.
Also, if we enjoy any measure of success or achievement, expect to be knifed. This is reality. We cannot control others, only ourselves and how we respond and what we choose to internalize. As writers, we’ll experience this with friends, family and even strangers.
If I met someone and told them I was an HR manager, most people likely wouldn’t reply, “No I meant, what is your real job?”
I wouldn’t have to give a resume of all my accomplishments and proof I made money as an HR manager or even a roster of how many people I had in my charge. Yet, no one seems…
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