Sunday, November 30, 2003
Mother crazy. Okay, so my mother is driving me crazy at this very moment. She is reading through some family history material and pointing out errors. Except that the errors are either not errors (she's wrong) or they are the result of the person I gave the information to typing things in incorrectly. I explained to her that it wasn't my book, but she kept calling out, "Here's another mistake." Finally I snap and say rather meanly, "It's not my book, those aren't my mistakes." She gets the hint.
I have never liked criticism. I had enough of it when I was a teenager from my father. In grad school I would get A s on my papers, but could never read the comments the professors wrote on them. At work I have to make corrections to things that I write, but at least I rarely mess up on factual matters, so I'm not really "wrong." Still, my mother pointing out things brings back uneasy feelings and I grit my teeth and get quite angry. I guess your childhood never really goes away.
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I have never liked criticism. I had enough of it when I was a teenager from my father. In grad school I would get A s on my papers, but could never read the comments the professors wrote on them. At work I have to make corrections to things that I write, but at least I rarely mess up on factual matters, so I'm not really "wrong." Still, my mother pointing out things brings back uneasy feelings and I grit my teeth and get quite angry. I guess your childhood never really goes away.
