Notes from the Undermined

From the time I was a mere child until the present day, people have felt that they could say anything at all to me. Sometimes they merely entrusted me with confidences that never should have been mine to hear. The unburdening might go on for hours. My ear was less a confessional and more the City Dump. What has been more typical is that they have dispensed unsolicited constructive criticism or, as I call it, “undermining.” Of course, many times I've faced criticism that has been frankly destructive, though I can see that coming. I'll raise the drawbridge and lower the portcullis to prevent blatantly sadistic critics from entering the castle. Doing anything at all in public takes bravery. There are those who lurk in the shadows with the psychic equivalent of ripe produce (or worse), ready to hurl it on the slightest pretext. They live to crush your joy, and to silence your voice. Avoiding the overtly vicious is easy, at least once you get past the age of compulsory schooling. After that, there's nothing forcing you to interact with them. At worst, you can just stay home. I consider myself incredibly lucky to have found a line of work that does not require me to leave the house. It's a great comfort not to have to rub elbows with the vindictively candid. I conduct my business by mail, email, and telephone—and Caller ID makes the phone much less harrowing. Additionally,