This amazes me, because I write almost every day, but post nearly nothing publicly. I’ve never been able to figure out why I find it so hard to “finish”
a piece for others.
In many ways, it’s not just that I suffer criticism badly, but not by rejecting it. Instead, I seem to adopt a solipsistic spite. “Fine, if you don’t like my cooking so much, you can find your own dinner.” As it were. I’ll happily just cook to my own tastes and enjoy it alone.
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: j@fabrica:~/src; :t_blink:
In response to this postAnd as frequently as some folks suffer under mansplaining, the spiritual equivalent of “not all men” seems to come from every marginalized group to which I belong, every time I share what I’ve experienced or used to cope with challenges. I’m not jewish, catholic, atheist, poor, rich, chronically depressed, physically disabled, or queer enough for my lived experiences to be those of the group. Maybe not Dolezal, but Modern Warrior’s quote on “passing” feels often unsaid.
But you know who else is bitter about not being iconoclastic, counter-culture, politically-correct enough? A whole bunch of folks who look a lot like me. Some of them even went to DC and smashed fire extinguishers in the face of the thin blue line, because their country is being “stolen” from them.
Hell yes, I’d rather be silently suspected a fool than open my mouth and give these folks credibility.
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