I’ve been told I’m a good listener.
I’ve been told I never listen.
I’ve been told I’m wise.
I’ve been told I’m a jerk.
I’ve been told I’m too thin.
(I’ve never been told the opposite.)
I’ve been told I’m generous.
I’ve been told I’m selfish.
I’ve been told I’m creative.
I’ve been told I’m a cliche.
I’ve been told I’m empathetic.
I’ve been told I’m too sensitive.
I’ve been told I’m passionate.
I’ve been told I’m detached.
I’ve been told I’m a good writer.
I’ve been told I’m a plagiarist.
(They later apologized.)
I’ve been told to speak up.
I’ve been told to mind my business.
I’ve been told I’m funny.
I’ve been told I’m annoying.
I’ve been told I’m a success.
I’ve been told I’m a failure.
I’ve been told I’m loved no matter what.
I’ve been told I’m not good enough no matter what.
I’ve been told many things. Some I believe. Some I wish I didn’t. Some are good for me. Some of those same things are sometimes bad for me. Some I’ve told myself. Some are hard to remember where they came from. Some are just passing through. Some ricochet and repeat.
I wish to distinguish what I’ve been told from what I actually am.
I wonder, though, if there exists a difference between the two.
