On Bitterness
When I was a freshman in college, that first semester was rough on me. Having to set my own structure while in a dorm full of young men with all the same interests (girls and video games) was not necessarily a recipe for productivity.
As a lot of kids are at that age, a lot of friends I made were a little critical and judgemental. That may be slightly ironic considering I went to a Christian university at the time, but hindsight is 20/20. But I'll never forget a conversation I had with my dad when I went home for Thanksgiving that year.
He took me to the Landenberg Store for cannolis (aside: I was dismayed to learn while writing this post that the store closed in 2025). Cannolis are one of my favorite desserts, so it wasn't a tough sell to lure me out of the house. I remember thinking I could tell there was something on his mind, and sure enough once I had a mouthful of delicious marscapone and pistachios, he let it out.
What he said wasn't profound, just direct. He talked to me about how he and my mom had noticed a massive shift in my worldview, and not for the better. I was becoming hypercritical of everything, withdrawn, and surly.
Anyone who knows me knows these generally aren't traits I aspire to. On my best days, I tend to be optimistic, affable, and easy-going. It wasn't just about seeing their son with a sunshiny disposition getting beat down by the world; it was them noticing I was taking my mental health down a path I ought not.
He went on to say that bitterness is the poison you give yourself. That's stuck with me through the years. It's so easy for me to fall back into that trap – to expect the best from people because I expect even more from myself, well past the point of being practical or realistic. I hold myself to impossible standards and get pissed off when others don't do the same. Is that my problem or theirs? Maybe a little of both, but most certainly mostly mine.
I have a lot I'm bitter about right now - mostly work. It's challenging, but often rewarding... and sometimes even satisfying. But I still often find myself being critical of systems I think are broken, people seeking personal glory rather than the good of the many, politickers being successful without substance...
That last one always sticks in my craw. When I was a boy scout, I remember toiling for weeks whittling on a walking staff. If I'm honest, my dad still did a ton of the shaping, but the creative vision was all mine: it said BSA (for Boy Scouts of America) on the handle, had a totem-pole-like motif with an eagle and snake wrapping around it, and the bottom had a notch so it'd leave something like a hoof print in the mud. Which worked for exactly one step, but y'know... The point was I had a vision and executed on it. The prize on offer was an official BSA hatchet. What does a 10-year-old need a hatchet for? Mostly bragging rights, TBH. But I lost the vote to someone who started carving their staff from a random stick they picked up literally 10 minutes before we all voted. It was a tough lesson in popularity contests and hard work not always being the only thing that matters.
I probably never really let that go. I've never been able to stomach people that talk about work but can neither execute nor lead a team. I get so frustrated and resentful when I see those people being successful and showered with public praise. But it's something I have to re-learn to let go of every day. I lead a team of Operators who are always going to be doing the trenchwork. We don't crave the spotlight, we just want to do good work. There are always going to be people who don't share that sentiment, or indeed reverse the polarity.
When I think back to what helped pull me out of that funk almost 25 years ago, it's shockingly simple: a little sweetness, on top of some tough love. That's it.
So I'm looking myself in the eye with this post and saying "Enough." Be a good leader, keep caring about your work quality and the team's reputation. Let everything else be noise.
And most importantly, let that be enough.