On Being Hated

Disclaimer: If you expect to read this and escape from the depression you have because someone said some un-nice thing about you at school — Um, this blog won’t help…Read along if you just, feel bad and want to find and huge someone else who shares the same sorrow.

When Mom’s mad at me, she could remain silent for a few days.

It’s very scary.

I used to feel as if I’ve lost her in my life, that I was no longer her child, that she hated my guts.

It felt as if I was redundant and my existence only burdens others.


“She’s so fake.”

“Weak stupid disrespectful self-centered bitch.”

“If she truly cares about this magazine, she would have fucking show up.”

“Yeah”


“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view…until you climb in his skin and walk around in it.”  (To Kill A Mocking Bird, Harper Lee)

During shit talks, I do try to explain why the person might do what she did, but sometimes I just keep silent and listen and smirk. I smirk at the unfortunate girl who’s hated and back-stabbed who I might not know. A part of me might feel sad for her, knowing that if I’m in her situation, I might do the same thing. Or I just congratulate myself on successful avoiding a scandal by not involving myself with the woman. And hope I won’t make the same mistakes she did, now that I know the consequences. But the mere fact that I stayed for the shit talks proves that just I’m a insecure narcissistic hypocrite and nothing can excuse me from that.

I just don’t want to be hated. It sucks. They don’t care shit about your struggle, your effort, or your contribution. They don’t see you as a human being anymore, just adjectives “irresponsible”, “authoritarian”, “ignorant”, “selfish”, and labels: an “attention-whore”, an “amateur”, a “kid”.

Having been through so many shit talks, I constantly fear the judgement of people (miệng lưỡi người đời). I know that I’m the one to decide my own worth and values. I also know that if you pay too much attention to what people say, you’ll become their puppet and lose your originality/identity. Oh I know the speech.

But when you’re living in a society where there are standards and norms and laws that dictate how you look and say and act and think — do you even have free will in being “you”? If from the beginning you’re already a product of the social norms around you, why fear losing “identity”? 

One way to end the struggle of preserving your true color while trying to fit in with the masses is choosing to do only one. Either be you, or fit in. And even then, the struggle continues because then either you are isolated/boycotted, or you get tired of pleasing people.

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I run into this struggle once a while. One horrifying aspect about adulthood is expanding your social networks. You reach out to people to find job opportunities, to find potential romantic partners, to chat, to fuck, to ask for help, to share the same interests. Somewhere along the way of getting know each other, they might hate you. And you might hate them. Because people are disgusting flawed creatures. And you are just supposed to walk it off.

You are a grown woman, having 1000+ acquaintances,  a few think that you’re dumb, three think you’re ugly, one person would belittle you in front of a crowd if she sees you from afar, please don’t cry, that’s just People 101. 

Someone attacked me personally the other day when we were discussing work, saying that I was boring and lack enthusiasm and greedy.

I was very offended and sad.

In a blink of an eye, I was a little kid sitting at the dinner table next to her Mom. Both ate slowly and said nothing for an hour. It’s that childhood trauma all over again.

The job project itself is one thing, but dealing with the people to collaborate on that project is a struggle.

 

 

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