Iterations

If you’ve spent any time around me at all, you know that I have opinions—lots of them—and I have since I was a kid. Sometimes when I would offer my unsolicited thoughts on various things, my mom would respond with “Oh, there he is…my little critic.” The thing is it’s not just criticism. Not always, anyway. More often than I generally care to admit, I find myself feeling personally offended, either by the design or functionality of a product or service or by someone—whether I know them or not—who simply doesn’t do something the way I think that it should be done. And to be clear, it’s not that I think that I’m better as much as I think that the way I do certain things is. I’m not right all the time and I have no problem admitting that. But when I am and I think that you’re not, I’ll happily tell you. I think it’s something I inherited from my dad—or maybe it’s a trait of undiagnosed neurodivergence. Either way, while I think I’ve gotten better about not being so critical (at least publicly), letting go of the