At first, I hated it. I didn’t want it. Dodged it every chance I got. Hid when anyone dared.
The Dreaded Critique!!
I’m not the only one who’s thought this before. Hating criticism, is natural. Everyone wants to be accepted and adored, especially those who put their hearts and souls out in the world (artist, writers, singers, etc.). And it hurts like hell when people don’t approve or rips your beating heart from your chest. BUT, criticism is as natural at hating it. We all do it whether it is mental, visual, or verbal. Sometimes it can be as slight as a disapproving glance or as blatant as someone saying “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!”
I never shared my own work because of that very worry, FEAR. But I over came it, took my abuse, and moved forward. The more criticism I received, the easier it was to take. And eventually I begin to say…
Bring. It. ON!!
Now, I eat critiques for lunch. Savor them like a decadent desert. AND BEG FOR MORE. I just don’t feel my writing is adequate enough without some flaw to learn from. If there is no flaw, I feel like something’s wrong: Maybe my feelings are being spared? Maybe my writing was too safe to have a flaw? Maybe I need a harsher more judgmental critic?
Don’t get me wrong
I love a pat on the back. Knowing my work is great and people are reading it. I love knowing I have talent and people are acknowledging it. But if that’s all I hear, after a while I think my writing is the same and not progressing. Criticism is my reassurance that I have not hit the ceiling and there is still room to grow. But then again, as long as I’m alive there will always be someone, somewhere willing to put their two cents in, so I’m not worried.
“The only real mistake is the one from which we learn nothing.”