Therapy for haters.

I was thinking about how my posts land differently, with different readers.

It seems I have a sweet little group of people who appreciate almost everything I write (cool, for sure!), and it’s my educated guess that there are also many people who read it, close the blog again, and get on with their day.

So there seems to be some direct and positive impact, AND -at best- some impact that’s not real impact yet, but might one day become just that.

Oh.

And then there are the people who are in a really bad place.

I’ve noticed that some of them find my posts very insulting and diminishing.

It’s like they believe that I’m describing their lives, and deliberately underline their failure to live it better than is currently the case.

Some people take what I write really personally in the most negative way possible, and blame me for not being realistic or not appreciating the complexity and darkness of their lives.

As if I don’t give a shit, as if I’m laughing my ass off because of their miserable existence, and my posts are vile ways to rub it in.

Let me tell you: when these people respond, angry and upset and offensive, I don’t like it very much.

But I’ve also learned to wait a bit, let the initial spontaneous backfire energy settle down, and either respond to them in a kind and respectful way, or just block the fuck out of them.

I don’t write blogs to hurt people.

I don’t share all this stuff to say I know what people should do or what they are doing wrong, because that’s none of my business.

And I’m also not underestimating how hard life can be.

(Just saying.)

Now if you tell me ‘Well Marnix, it’s up to them to either read or not read your posts, right?’, I totally agree.

If you have a history of hating my stuff, then it’s asking for trouble to keep indulging in it.

But I guess some people ARE asking for trouble.

Maybe their temporary eruption of rage and dissatisfaction allows them to forget about their day-to-day problems, and maybe it helps them a bit to beam their burning sense of unhappiness at me.

In a way, that makes what I do extra helpful.

It’s just a weird fucking way.

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(Photo by @simran01_fashionphotography, for Unsplash)