Haters Gonna Hate

After writing my book this summer, my friends and family were excited for me, and pumped me up and filled my heart with optimism and love. I was on a type of high afterwards. I felt like I had accomplished something that I had dreamed of for so long, and I was happy with the result. I looked forward to the next steps of the process, and naively assumed that everyone in my life would be excited, as well. Well, in the words of Dwight Schrute...

The night that I launched my Kickstarter, I was laying in bed and received a text message from a number I didn't recognize.
"It's bad enough we have to have your self centered, self involved group texts, your endless Instagram stories and posts and your dribble column in the Hood County News... what makes you think we actually want to give you money for your self serving "novel"?
I replied, "Who is this?"
Them: "Someone willing to speak up when no one else will"
Me: "A coward who won't give their name?"
Them: "I have to see you every day. I'm not going to jeopardize my job."
Me: "Why do you follow me on Instagram if you don't want to see it?"
Them: "I don't. Someone I know does. But I love how you didn't say your posts aren't self centered and self serving. And going back a bit, I love how you think you have "one" hater. Hilarious."
Me: "Because I'm not going to argue with someone who is hiding behind a phone number I don't know. But I'm glad to hear y'all talk about me."
Them: "You mean laugh at you behind your back? Yes."
Me: "Here's an idea for you: Don't be my friend on Facebook. Don't follow me on Instagram. Don't read my column. Don't contribute to my book. And don't text me. What a sad existence."
Then they hit below the belt with a comment that attacked my looks and my personal life that I won't share here. I didn't respond. They then celebrated that they silenced me. I never responded.
You can make your own assumptions of who the troll is. They give away a lot of information for not revealing much. Do I know who it is? I have an assumption, but assumptions can't be proven, and the number was untraceable. I'd be lying if I said I was unfazed by it, and that it didn't hurt my feelings.
I'm 35 years old and have never been bullied or anonymously attacked. It's exactly what we teach our children not to do, and what we pray others won't do to them. Hiding behind a computer screen or a fake phone number and saying things you wouldn't dare say to somebody's face is cowardly. You're not being courageous and speaking out on others' behalves. It's the opposite. Let me comment on a couple of the text messages for just a moment. The word "dribble" is not correct. And I'm not sure why the word novel is in quotation marks. The definition of novel is as follows: an invented prose narrative that is usually long and complex and deals especially with human experience through a usually connected sequence of events. Additionally, if somebody this person knows follows me on Instagram, and the texter doesn't, then why are they watching my stuff with them? That's weirdly stalkerish. The whole thing is, actually.

Since that has occurred, even more negativity has come my way. I got "mean girled" and was lied about in such a way that my entire family was/is affected. I also received another text message from a friend who was upset that I had the nerve to send my Kickstarter out via text, and I'm sure there's been some less than flattering chatter behind my back.
My friend, Courtney, whose profession is open to feedback and scrutiny at all times, told me that if I'm going to do something like a write a book and have a Kickstarter, then I have to have thick skin. And she's right. I don't know why I expected everybody to be supportive and excited. I suppose it's because the initial feedback pumped me up. I've always been an optimist, and at times there's a blurred line between optimism and naivety. My friends will quickly tell you that I tend to fall in the blurred area often.
But here's the beauty to all of it. The awful anonymous text messages, the non-anonymous text message, and the mean girling didn't steal my joy. All of the above made me stop and question the way that I am, who I am. I live out loud. I share a lot of my life with others. I do post a lot on social media. And my column is about my life. I'm very open, loud, and honest. Each instance had me stop and wonder if I needed to change the way I do things, change how much I share, and ultimately, change who I am. But for one, I don't want to do that. And secondly, if I do that, the mean girls win. I refuse to let them have that control over me. Did they knock me down? Yes. But not only did I get up, I got up with the help and support of so many wonderful people. The haters pulled the carpet out from under me, but my loved ones replaced it with a red one, and reminded me of my worth.


lissa said…
I forgot how much I love your blog. I love your attitude, it inspires me to make the most of each day no matter the trial. I love you!
Chaz Gallagher said…
Crazy. HURT people hurt people. I know its short and kind of silly but always %100 true.

Keep doing your thing and crushing life!

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