Why what other people think about you doesn't matter
A few small words.
Small because they’re petty and mean.
Small because that’s how they make your feel.
Small because you can easily fit them into your heart, even if there’s no room for their destructive nature.
Small is how I felt.
I had taken the leap with my new journal and purchased advertising on Facebook, a chance to get my journal out to the world. I knew it was an opportunity to be seen and heard in a very scary way- opening myself up to the world outside my close, safe group of friends and supporters.
That type of vulnerability can make your knees quake and your stomach clench, and not in the good way of first love, but in a way that makes you feel exposed.
I hadn’t made a sale yet but have more likes on my page, increasing my reach and hopefully helping more people. My intention is to get my journal into the hands of those who need to take the healing journey it offers.
The negative comment shut me down.
“Too much dang money. Stop posting.”
Why is it that our default thought goes to our own worth? My immediate thought was “Is it? Too much money?” Self doubt hovered in the door and then walked across my self esteem like a doormat. I was sad and angry. Angry at the woman who posted and myself, for allowing a stranger to wreak havoc with my own beliefs.
Was I really going to let some random woman dictate how I felt about myself and my work?
In the past the answer would’ve been a sad little yes. For a few days or hours, I’d live with the doubt and sadness. Dissecting my life and examining every little mistake. This time I made a shift.
I read once that authors feel like they ‘have arrived’ when someone posts a negative review on Amazon. It means that people aren’t only reading your work but talking about it. A different opinion or perspective doesn’t mean that the work (or you) don’t have value, but that it isn’t a fit for them. The expectation that everyone will love you is unrealistic, something I discovered in Kindergarten, but tend to forget.
I knew that her comment was a mirror into my own thoughts. I had struggled with pricing and having the comment about the cost come back, was just the Universe sending me a message. Do I accept this as my truth, or do I instead listen to my soul and heart?
The choice was easy. I jumped and danced through my kitchen as Perri, my mini labradoodle watched with a look of concern. Singing. “I’ve arrived” at the top of lungs and feeling giddy that my journal’s out in the world making an impact. Happily, I flailed and wailed- the ultimate self congratulatory party, complete with my college sweat shirt and Eeyore pajama pants.
In the middle of my funky chicken moves, I stopped and again thought of the woman. I’d realized that she was hurting. Why else would someone post a negative comment about something they have no experience with (she never bought my journal)? In fact, she needed to bring me down so she could feel something- righteous, superior, empowered? When she most likely was feeling small. Hence, why she needed me to feel the same way.
Instead of absorbing her issues and negativity and making them mine. I chose to listen to my own soul and my beliefs. This is what you can do when faced with other people’s dramas, neuroses, challenges, anger, and sadness. Honor yourself, your boundaries, and your values. Don’t let their opinions and voices become the commentators in your head.
I sent her some love. Yep, true. In my mind I pictured this woman and said,” May you be happy. May you be healthy. May you be safe.”
Then I resumed dancing in my best 80’s moves, Perri joining in- jumping and joyfully wagging her tail. And why not? Her mama was exhilarated- I’d arrived!
This all happen on a Saturday morning. Later that day, I shared this story with a couple of friends during a dance event. I described how I went from the slump of self doubt triggered by a negative comment to the euphoria of knowing I was on the right path.
Guess what? You got it in one! The Universe gave me a big fat high five Sunday night. I sold four journals. All because I chose to define who I am and not let others do it for me.