“Not everyone will like you, and you won’t like everyone.”
I did not learn this lesson until I was in my thirties, in a difficult situation. I attended an inpatient program for sexual abuse survivors in complex circumstances, and I was being bullied by one of the women there in group therapy. Instead of writing her off as a — many words come to mind, none of them kind — I alternated between trying to ingratiate myself to her and defending myself. Just as I had done in my childhood when people bullied me.
I spent a lot of time crying about my mistreatment. Then, in a one-on-one with my social worker, she said, “not everyone will like you, and you won’t like everyone.” I stared at her. Wasn’t it normal to be liked by everyone? Wasn’t there something wrong with me if not everyone liked me? No, and no.
This became my mantra when faced with bullies or even people who just didn’t like me. I didn’t have to grovel to people who didn’t like me. I didn’t have to make them like me. I had the right to exist, like everyone else.
Words Like Me 