leaves your interior wide open to objective judgment, your thoughts, decisions, mind, personality up for grabs in the outer world's scramble to do its worst. If people are criticizing my outsides, that's on them, but if they dislike me for the parts I can supposedly control, if they think I'm wrong or illogical or stupid or crazy, doesn't the platitude's corollary leave that more or less on me?
This is a thought I've only articulated in the past few months, but certainly lived by as long as I can remember. It's a hard one to let go of, or even to know whether I should (there's that should again). Is my desire to live by my own desires not the product of external pressure to "be true to myself"? (Or more broadly - the pervasive cultural pressure to be happy?) My most essential desire tells me primarily to, above all, not disappoint.