Editing

I really have to get used to criticism.

I've always been the type of person who never wanted to be wrong. Even if I knew in my head that what I was saying was wrong, what I was doing was wrong, or anything at all...I never want to admit it. It's downright embarrassing.

For example:

• The other week, I told a reporter that I was sure that Nguyen was pronounced just the way it looks: "Ni-gu-yen", and she pronounced it like so on the 10 p.m. news, only to exit the newsroom and get hounded by her boss who said it's pronounced "Win".
  
• Whenever there's something physically wrong with me, I frequently "wait-it-out" to see if it will get better, when I know that it won't unless I use medicine.
• And most recently, I refuse to believe that my writing is confusing, when clearly, it sometimes is...

And we talked about this in class. Editing is something writers have to deal with, even though they get "attached to their words." But I guess the problem with me, is it's not so much that I'm attached to my words. You can rip my work apart all you want. You can say I need a comma there, or that word needs to be replaced with that word. I'll accept it. I'll change it. I'll definitely do what you say...but I'll hate it every step of the way. I'm embarrassed that I'm not this writing prodigy that can spew out a miraculous article in one night. I'm embarrassed that I didn't know that comma went there, or that I didn't capitalize that word, or her title. I'm embarrassed that I forgot to look over that page, and completely missed a sentence that was about 50 words long. I'm ashamed, and I don't like being a shitty-writing spectacle for the entire class to see.

I remember one time in high school when I thought I handed in an awesome paper. Well, the next day, my teacher said exactly this, "Some of these papers were amazing. Some were not." He rolled the over-head projector to the front of the class, switched on the blaring light, and up popped my essay.
"Oh wow!" I thought. "He's going to show this as one of the good ones"
Well, he didn't make it past the first three words before he started criticizing my writing..and proceeded to allow the rest of the class to rip the entire essay apart, sentence after sentence....saying every little possible thing that was wrong with it. I felt hot in my chair, mortified that I actually thought I produced decent writing.
I went home and cried that day, vowing I would never pursue English as my degree.

Four years later, I sometimes find myself thinking the same things.

Yet, I came to this realization four years ago--and I have come to it again: I am not, nor will I ever be perfect the first time through. It's downright selfish of me to think or even expect that. Once in a while, I will get praised for my writing, and that boosts my self-esteem, and certainly backs up my career choice.
When I get bumped down, it hurts. It's not easy, but I know that I have to soak up every aspect of criticism in the next month-and-a-half. Because whoever my boss is won't accept misplaced commas, 50-word sentences, or confusing transitions. It could someday cost me my job, not just an hour of humiliation.