#being disliked

I’ll forever be annoyed that I was born to be disliked.

My opinions are all unpopular.

The things you hate bring me unbridled joy.

I was born to be disliked by strangers.

Without you knowing my name, you hate me same.

My taste in books, art, and music are out of vogue.

I’m contrary. I’m backwards. I’m probably insane.

I’ll forever be annoyed that I was born to be disliked.

Have the courage to be disliked.

Like exactly every single person on the surface of the Earth, I’m not liked by everyone. There’s people who doesn’t like me because of my attitude, or my morals, or my liking of certain things. There’s people who doesn’t like me because of what I’ve done –good and bad– and people who doesn’t like because of what I didn’t do. 

Being liked, in this contemporary digital world, can be seen as a personal affront because we’re used to collecting hearts and likes in the profiles of the myriad of social networks we function in: if someone, out there in the real world (the one that matters the most) expresses a blatant dislike towards us, we feel put down, or attacked, or the perception of our personal value decreases. I imagine it as an invisible HP bar above our heads that looses life points every time we come across such situations. I’m talking of that perceivably underserved dislike, the one that hurts the most because we didn’t actually do anything to be the receptacle of it. 

Not being liked can be explained by a number of reasons, as also can be why people feel the need to tell us when they don’t, but that’s not what I wanted to say. What I’ve been thinking lately –”victim”, as we are all, of someone who doesn’t like me– is that we are wrong by telling ourselves that it doesn’t matter, because it does: it matters if someone doesn’t like us.

When someone, whoever, doesn’t like us (and I’m working here under the assumption that we didn’t actively do anything to deserve that dislike), what they don’t like is something that goes against something they believe in as strongly as we do with the opposite thing. It’s like you being a Harry Potter fan and being disliked by someone who’s afraid of witchcraft, if you allow me the stupidity of that example. And this works both ways: I, for example, dislike everyone who flaunts about their achievements, and I’m disliked by people because I’m sometimes a snob. 

If we’re being targeted by this perceivably undeserved dislike, it means we’re standing by something and we’re not wavering in our principles, nor we are willing to change them or hide them in order of being liked. We’ve already reached the conclusion that what we think or what we do is something consciously decided because of a certain reason, and when someone who’s decided the opposite crosses our path, that dislike shouldn’t be unexpected, and it also should be respected for it’s also a thoughtfully decided position.

For example, the reason of me being a snob sometimes is because I value culture. I’m a philologist, and it bothers me when someone writes something the wrong way or says something that I don’t think is right and are unwilling to debate. When I cross paths with someone who doesn’t place the same value on this, even if I don’t explicitly say something to them, I automatically like them less, and they also like me less because they perceive my dislike towards them.  And I’m disliked by people who like to talk about their achievements because they’re proud of them or simply because they’re communicative, even without flaunting, because I think actions speak louder than words and I like being discreet about that kind of things. Neither of us is wrong, but these views are diametrically opposite, so they clash and dislike ensues. 

What I’ve been thinking lately is that being disliked in this kind of situations, and someone disliking you back, means that you both know where you stand, and it’s works kind of like a confirmation of character if you’ve previously thought about why you act or think that way and stick to it.