People will misunderstand you, and most will never remember you.
If you’re in the majority, your life and death will pass completely without witness.
Almost nobody becomes a Benjamin Franklin.
So what if somebody gets you wrong?
I had my quarterly review yesterday, it wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t great. It was largely inaccurate. I voiced a few points, and left the rest wash away like water falling on a roof. For now it’s wet, with a little time it’ll dry enough you won’t even remember the rainy day that interrupted your picnic.
Old me would have fought vehemently. Overachiever needing their acknowledgments. Current me thinks I have worse reasons to be happy.
That’s not a typo.
I remember the docked pay I suffered 7 years ago that felt life altering (and it was), but already today it doesn’t even matter. Not in that way. I’m where I am supposed to be — always, good or bad.
This “bad” thing may just be the seed I need to grow better things. To grow what would not be possible without a bad seed.
And the need to be seen accurately? It’s a fool’s fecundity.
Even if we lived the exact same life, we wouldn’t see eye to eye. It’s fine for someone to get me wrong. I’m sure I get them wrong, too.
I was once told it's only 3 generations to be forgotten in your own family.