I’m not sure how many people honestly like me. I know there are quite a few people who honestly tolerate me, but I’m not entirely sure how many people actually like me. I like to think that Josh loves me. And my dad probably loves me. And, even when my son and my mom are annoyed at me, the net feeling is probably in favor of love.
Other than that, I just don’t know. I’m fully aware that I’m probably likable enough until you get to know me. Then, the filter comes off as you get to know me better, and I’m probably obnoxious. By then, you’re sort of stuck with me, and the toleration begins.
But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Universal popularity is probably not what you should be striving for. And, honestly, one of the times that I knew I was doing something right was when someone referred to me as a “bitch” after I argued passionately in a Student Assembly meeting that some of our discretionary money might be better spent on something other than yet another frat-related activity. (The fact that others were swayed by my arguments and the money given elsewhere prompted a number of Greeks to voice their unflattering opinion of me.)
Recently I reminded myself, once again after a rather heated disagreement over something I’d said, that universal popularity probably shouldn’t be my goal. And that it doesn’t need to be scary if not everyone likes you. In fact, even if only a few people like you, it’s probably ok. I know who is most important in my life. And if everyone else doesn’t like me, I guess that’s ok.
(Language warning for video.)