The title is to be read in Charlie Brown's voice.
I usually like to think I'm beyond worrying what people think of me. But there's a reason that it seems that way. I don't mean to sound egotistical or anything, but people usually like me. I could count on two hands the people that have hated me in my life. And the truth is, every time it has happened, it shocks and hurts me like crazy.
There was Mrs. Sturgill, my typing teacher in high school. She was probably the first. God, she really loathed me and I never really knew why. But it started the pattern that generally is followed to this day. Someone hates me, for legit reasons or not, and first I'm shocked and really hurt. Then I try to get back at them for hurting me by being a big dick to them. This alternates with incredible guilt spirals where I try to just be really nice to them and as Christian as I can be. And then they show me again how much they hate me and the cycle begins anew.
I was telling the older sister of one of my favorite former students that I had to go home today and write an email to someone who hates me. "Why would you do that? If this person hates you, why write them an email?" I thought about it. It's pride, really. I want vindication. I want this person to see they're wrong to hate me. I want them to admit they're being mean and that I haven't done the things of which they've accused me.
I know I haven't been a great guy to this person. And I know a lot of this is my own fault. But I don't like being accused of specific things I haven't done. I don't like it because of pride. I see myself as a likeable guy, and I generally am. When this self-notion is challenged, it hurts. It hurts more than it should.
