I used to be afraid of being misunderstood. Afraid people would get me wrong, label me incorrectly, and that I’d be misunderstood for life simply because I didn’t bother to explain.

Later, I realized something: clarifying is actually exhausting.

I have to rewind to the very beginning, reconstruct context, motivation, causes and effects, and then hope the other person is willing to listen, able to understand, and not already biased.

Those three conditions are harder than winning the lottery.

So I learned something: some misunderstandings don’t need explaining. Not because I have nothing to say, but because even after explaining, nothing really improves.

I think I'm clarifying, but often I'm just helping the other person finish a script they’ve already written in their head.

Being misunderstood can actually be convenient.

If people think we’re cold, they won’t dump their emotional trash on us. If they think we’re difficult, they won’t hand us their mess to clean up. If they think we’re self-centered, they won’t ask us to take responsibility for their lives.

We do nothing, and the world quietly clears the room for us.

Sometimes I wonder, maybe people who live so exhausted aren’t overwhelmed by tasks, but by the urgency to be understood.

Understanding was never an obligation. And it’s certainly not a skill everyone has. Sometimes, misunderstanding works like a filter.

Those who stay aren’t necessarily the ones who understand us, but the ones who can still respect us without understanding.

They’re rare. But they’re enough.

My attitude toward misunderstanding is simple now: if you misunderstand me, and that misunderstanding harms neither of us, then let’s both save some energy.

The world is already loud enough. I don’t need to write a manual for every passerby.



—— XC Scribbles · 伍拾壹 LI 🪞