Don’t Read the Comments

They Say Don’t Read the Comments, But Sometimes They Read You.

Usually, I am my harshest critic. Every now and then, someone else steps up to the plate. In this post, I reflect on one such instance, which happened to me over the weekend.

I woke up this morning to a very unkind comment on one of my YouTube videos. It really doesn’t matter what it said, exactly. Or it shouldn’t. But it cast a grey cloud over this otherwise sunny, spring-like weekend day.

Thankfully, most of the time, I receive kind comments from friends, fans and students on my work and classes. Thankfully, negative comments like the one that came in today are almost completely non-existent. But it’s funny how much one negative, worthless comment stands out against the hundreds and thousands of positive, truly meaningful ones.

I make a point of reading and being grateful for each and every kind word people send to me. It’s times like today that I realize how truly uplifting these kind messages mean to me. It’s like the air I breathe. I’m so used to them, that when one little stinky comment pollutes the air for a second, I choke.

While I shouldn’t give a negative comment more attention than it deserves, I can’t help but process my reaction to it. I’m kind of a ruminator. So in this spirit I have to at least describe it and the surrounding context. The comment was in response to my most popular YouTube video, which is about what you can do at the very beginning of your journey into illustration.

…of course, I had to go to my website and look at my work to test his perspective. And suddenly I saw only ugliness.

In a very backhanded way, the commener says they are “so encouraged”because if someone whose art is as bad as mine can earn someone a living, then so could they. Who knows? Maybe it was just the most unwittingly cruel compliment ever paid, or it could be a troll just out to ruin another YouTuber’s day. Either way, it was exceedingly insulting, and it got to me!

This morning when I read it, I was at first shocked, but then I quickly dismissed it, affirming myself with reasons why that guy’s wrong. I’ve won awards for my illustration. I earn a cozy living making my art. My classes are well reviewed. I have decent numbers on social media. I have two agents, plus I get offers from new ones from time to time. I am a published picture book illustrator … I had to remind myself of my accomplishments. Within a few minutes I let it go and moved on.

For a few minutes.

I just kept thinking about the comment. Feeling that I somehow deserve it. That the reason it hurts so much is because I know it’s true. I mean I say it myself all the time—“You don’t have to be a good drawer to be an illustrator”. I often joke that I’m not even a very good illustrator and can’t understand why people would even pay me.

Whatever their intentions, their words don’t matter much. But what they don’t know is that they have given me a gift. They’ve given me a reason to pause and look at my art, and who I am, and what I do, and the people that pay me, and the people that learn from me, and the fact that I am doing what I love for a living — and be thankful.

So is it true? Do I make bad art? No. I am fully aware, and largely in control, of my stylistic decisions, and I stand by my art. But the point of this reflection is not to defend my art. There’s nothing to defend when the insult comes from a nobody. So why be upset? Because I was able to be upset by a nobody. That I actually partially believe in the remark, in spite of all evidence to the contrary.

So do I deserve it? If I’m honest, I kind of do. Karma. When I was a teenager, I remember writing a record label to let them know how disappointed I was in all their music. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I regret that it was quite pointed and unkind. That was a long time ago, and perhaps it didn’t matter at all to whomever read it. But maybe it did. Maybe it really got in their head. Maybe they doubted everything for a very long time. Maybe it devastated them. They didn’t know who was saying it, that it was just a bored teenage boy misdirecting his own unresolved feelings of resentment. I don’t know, I sure hope I don’t get paid back for all the petty little dumb things I ever said and did. I hope karma has a bad memory. But I can at least accept that sometimes I have been a jerk, and if anything, I can’t feel too sorry for myself when I’m on the other end of a harsh word. Somehow, knowing this makes it easier to forgive. But more to my point, just like my mean-spirited words had almost nothing to do with the quality of music I was criticizing, it’s possible the same could be said of my YouTube troll’s words.

I have no idea who this person is. Whatever their intentions, their words don’t matter much. They don’t even have a real username or profile photo. They’re the YouTube equivalent of an egg. But what they don’t know is that they have given me a gift. They’ve given me a reason to pause and look at my art, and who I am, and what I do, and the people that pay me, and the people that learn from me, and the fact that I am doing what I love for a living—and be thankful. Gratitude is realizing how much I have is truly a gift, not really something I can take much credit for. I do things and others respond, they give me their feedback, they tell me it’s good. They say, we like what you do! They tell me, please, keep going, we want to see more! Whether from my wife, my children, my parents, my siblings, my friends, my students, my clients, my followers…these encouragements from the people that surround me, they are the reason I keep going. They are the reason I believe any of this is worthwhile. Their yeses are my permission to believe what I do has any value.

On my bio, on my website’s About page, I have always declared that I like to make work that makes people happy. I suppose it hurts to learn that some people aren’t convinced. Whether it’s an overly critical review on one of my Skillshare classes or a harsh comment on YouTube, it’s these I want most to respond to. As a problem solver at heart, I want to go in and fix the broken parts. Grease the squeaky wheel. For better or worse (mostly for worse), it’s these I take most personally. These are the people I want to make things right with. If I’m not making them happy, I’m failing in my mission. But of course, I know, I can’t make everyone happy. That’s as trite a truism as there ever was. But realizing this still sucks, especially when it comes in the form of a rejection of what I often see as my best.

Yet, again, I am thankful. Not so much for jerks, but for occasions like this to stop for a minute and consider what I am doing and see if it stands the test of a few sticks and stones. To see where there are holes and perhaps to patch it up again. Or to be thankful for some much needed ventilation. My work doesn’t take itself too seriously anyway. That’s kind of my jam.

Before I wrap up, I just want to circle back to how much the feedback of others affects how I see myself. And I think this is one of the big takeways here. Oftentimes, once I’m done an illustration, I don’t really want to see it again. While I know it passes and does its job, I don’t really think it’s all that great. But then someone else says they love it. Suddenly I see it in a different light. Something I was reluctant to share, or ready to disown, suddenly becomes my pride and joy. Encouragement can help us see the good that we were too quick to dismiss. The dark side is that it can also cause us to lose our internal sense of what we like for ourselves. And this becomes very apparent when someone directly discourages us.

The Saturday Morning Troll went so far as to say they checked out my website and just thought about how bad everything was, that it was so far from being even remotely “art”. And of course, I had to go to my website and look at my work to test his perspective. And suddenly I saw only ugliness. I hated all of my work, every last pointy nose and sausage finger. I wanted to tear down my website and start again. I realized right away how easily swayed my sense of self-worth is, whether from positive or negative feedback. And this is absolutely wrong.

Encouragement can help us see the good that we were too quick to dismiss. The dark side is that it can also cause us to lose our internal sense of what we like for ourselves. And this becomes very apparent when someone directly discourages us.

Yes, the comment was upsetting, but my ability to be pushed down so easily is the real problem. What does it mean that I need outside encouragement to like my own work? Honestly, I don’t think there’s anything that abnormal about that. Obviously we need encouragement to thrive as humans, as artists, as whatever it is we are doing in life. Because life is hard and we need other people to tell us we’re doing good and to keep going. But I do need to keep working on being resilient and making sure that it is the right people I am listening to, the right people whose opinions matter most to me.

Meanwhile, I’ve got a job to do. I’m an illustrator and a teacher. Heck, I’m in the process of writing a book on being an illustrator, and artist. Do you think I’m going to let one negative comment tear me down? No way. The work I do matters, to me and to others. If I didn’t believe this deeply, I wouldn’t be anywhere close to where I am today, which is a lot to be thankful for.