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What’s your worst quality?

I am thin-skinned, which makes it hard to give me coaching or feedback. The good news is that I’m aware of it and make an effort to slow down, thank someone for constructive feedback, and process both the intent and content before I respond.

Doesn’t always happen, but I’m trying.

Carl Jung famously said everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves, which is true. I hate thin-skinned motherfuckers on the internet, and it takes everything in my power not to be triggered and respond back.

Vicious cycle with no winners. Who needs that?

But check this out: I’ve hired a young woman to help with my Twitter, Facebook, IG and podcast inbox over the summer. She reads through my inbound inquiries, flags what’s important, and responds with templates to the rest. That way I’m organized on Sunday morning and can get through my business correspondence in a flash.

Cheaper than a virtual assistant, faster than sorting through this bullshit myself. And, to be fair, most of it is bullshit. Especially this exchange from an author who wrote a book about behavioral science.

If I unmask his name, I’m a petty bitch who causes trouble. Also, I might put myself in harm’s way. Some people are weird, and there’s always the risk of violence. Sunshine is the best disinfectant, but you never know what chaos and darkness lurk behind a random DM.

If don’t unmask his name, he gets away with proactively asking a random woman on the internet for her address and getting mad at her team’s automated response when he doesn’t get his way. Would he want his wife, daughter, intimate partner, sister or mother giving out her address to some stranger? Is this how we operate in 2019?

Honestly, here’s how I feel: conflicted. There’s a part of me that wants to be helpful. I could go back and offer marketing advice. You know, provide better language on how to approach strangers when selling a book. But that’s insane. Why would I do his job for him?

I’m thin-skinned enough that this has bothered me for a minute, but also self-aware enough to know that I was given a gift — a lesson on how not to market my forthcoming book. So I’ll take this as a win and keep this gentleman’s identity masked.

Takes a thin-skinned asshole to know one. Guilty as charged. Let’s hope we can both build character and move on from here.

(But he’s a shitty jerk, right? Right? Okay, fine, I’ll let it go.)