Part of my disease of perception is not allowing someone else’s disappointment or criticism to define me. That is a hard task to achieve when your words are plastered in a public venue. But, I am slowly learning that I can’t accommodate other people’s emotional baggage. Most recently, one of my pieces was published and there seemed to be some editing errors that weren’t of my doing. However, with my name attached it falls upon me. It happens. We are all human and make mistakes, but I feel like society deems it acceptable to hide behind a screen and vomit our displeasure. When I read emails that are overly critical of something that I have written or give me “helpful” suggestions on how I can improve my craft, I react physically. My stomach churns. There are those tapes that start playing in my head that scream, “you aren’t good enough”. My process tells me to let that marinate a bit. Embrace that feeling and then I talk myself down from the ledge.
It is true that we all stumble a bit, miss the mark, and God forbid, be human. Today, I don’t have to be taken hostage by someone else’s disappointment. I just need to keep my side of the street clean. I am still a work in progress.