Negative Reinforcement
Why people acting like assholes is good for you
Let’s be honest. It’s hard to put yourself out there. It’s hard to create something that is a reflection of yourself for others to see. It’s hard to write something or do stand up comedy or create a short film or write music. It’s absolutely a labor of love, a huge chunk out of your time, but also a tax on your mental and emotional well being. It leaves you open and vulnerable to opinions and negativity. It’s definitely not for the faint of heart. It is a true test of your creative fortitude.
I have been a writer all my life. I knew since I was little this is what I wanted to do. I went to college and received a degree in English. I had dreams of moving to New York and joining a publishing house. But as we all know, dreams don’t happen if you don’t make them. No one made me, so nothing happened. I conceded to my fate of service, smiling at people I hate and serving assholes who think they’re better than me, telling myself that at the end of the day, it was all about the money. After a decade, I penned a manuscript, then socked it away on a shelf, never to be seen again. Seven more years passed. Then I “tried” to launch Bitter Bitch the first time. After a month, I quit. It never went live. I couldn’t come up with the content. I couldn’t figure out the software. I couldn’t focus my vision. No one was supportive. I felt stupid. I failed yet again.
When you love something and it is truly a reflection of yourself, you don’t want to expose it.
Another miserable year ensued. I decided to revive the Bitter Bitch, yet again. I bought a computer that fucking worked and started at ground zero for the tenth time. But this time I realized what was really holding me back was everyone else’s opinion. The fear of sharing something so personal to a bunch of people and their fucking opinions is crippling. When you love something and it is truly a reflection of yourself, you don’t want to expose it. If you’ve never made anything, if you are not a creative person in that way, you could never truly understand the courage it requires. When you hear these stories about J.K. Rowling sleeping in her car before Harry Potter took off or Eminem handing out demos on the street corner, you think damn, ok. But the truth is you don’t know how many thousands of other talented, creative, amazing performers you’ll never get the opportunity to experience because they weren’t tough enough. They didn’t have what it took to be turned away and criticized, to be ridiculed by the masses. A million more talented people are out there right now but we’ll never meet them because they didn’t have the strength to stick around.
I’ve received a lot of correspondence from people who enjoy my blog, saying they have similar stories and want to write about them: how did I start, what did I do, etc. The journey is different for everyone. Mine started as a map in my mind, from all my previous failures. A tweak here, a change there, but mostly I had to find my untethered voice, the true Bitter Bitch inside of me, and not be afraid of what everyone else would think if her. When I was ready to soft-release, I was terrified. I was sick for three days. I was overwhelmed with nosy mother fuckers who only wanted to pry into my life, talk shit, and troll me. Once the newness wore off, haters would prod me about what I’m doing now. As if just because they don’t see something happening doesn’t mean it isn’t. Just because I don’t post every day doesn’t mean I’m not updating my website, learning SEO’s, indexing webpages, editing materials. People tell me how cute my little blog is. People pat me on the back like I participated in the special olympics and came in last. People pay me backhanded compliments like they’re doing me a favor. Just last night someone was raving how great the blog is, then another person said Oh, nodded, and launched a new conversation as if I wasn’t standing there. Cool, I’ll just go fuck myself then, thanks.
Make your own personal registry of mother fuckers that you are going to send a Thank You card when you finally reach your goals.
These brush offs, the passive aggressive comments, the blatant disregards are your best friend as an artist. This is your fuel. When people tell you Maybe, We’ll See, or It Could Happen, this is your reinforcement to make sure it does. IT COULD FUCKING HAPPEN. Take that and add it to the list of naysayers and assholes who don’t believe in you. Make your own personal registry of mother fuckers that you are going to send a Thank You card when you finally reach your goals. Every person who treats you like your dream is stupid is just another opinion you have to spite. My mom used to tell me things would never work if you were doing it for someone else. For example, that diet isn’t going to work if you want to get skinny for a man; you have to want to get skinny for yourself. Wrong, mom. I’m not getting skinny to make a man happy: I’m getting skinny so I can make him miserable and fuck all his friends. Don’t change the inspiration, change your perception of it. Catalogue every bitch comment, every snicker, every whisper, and keep it close to your heart. One day you’ll look back at them and laugh because you can’t hear those whispers from the top floor.