So this thing that keeps happening happened again today to another author. Or it didn't happen *to* the author. And while I can stand outside and shake my head and knowingly wonder why they would ever think this is a good idea, I have to admit, I can understand the impulse. Today, I was in a meeting and [an idea I had] was attacked, or rather a group of people of which I am a part of ['s idea] was attacked, and I defended it-- not even in a scathing, upset way-- but I have this horrifying feeling that I talked too much. I worry that I looked too upset, too offended.
And it reminds me of this simple truth: not everyone is going to like me [or all of my ideas]. And more than that, not everyone *has* to like me. Trying to make those people like me is an exhausting waste of my time. It robs me of my joy. Hey, I'm not for everyone. However, at the risk of sounding conceited, most of the people I meet, do end up my friend. But there will always be a few who just aren't going to like me, and I'm not going to stop being myself or chase after them or try to convince them they're wrong by sicking my friends on them to convince them they're wrong; instead, I've learned to shrug it off and enjoy the company of the people who enjoy mine.
Because life is too short, and the internet too big for this kind of nonsense. It doesn't work. It makes you look small. In the end, it reinforces all of the things they believed about you to begin with.