It gets to a point in my life when it doesn't matter what other people think of me. Someone has a horrible opinion about me, but it isn't as awful as it used to be. For ten people, it's great; for the other ten, it's terrible. I am aware of this, and despite this, I make no attempt to demonstrate my purity.
Even the closest friends and family members might be misled at times. "Whatever he thinks he knows about how I am, he will never misunderstand me, never think or comment on me," says the man in whom I have such faith. That man, too, misunderstood and made derogatory remarks. But he didn't want to admit his error at the moment.
It's not as if it doesn't hurt. Of course, it hurts when someone close to you misunderstands. However, for some reason, the mind refuses to convey that anguish. We eventually learned to hide the ache in our chests. Even though I didn't want to, I said 'yes' instead of 'no.' Humans, too, are oddballs. We all know that what we see with our eyes isn't always accurate.
However, I see why we might pass judgment on someone we know well based on our own opinions. We don't care about the backstory behind what we see with our eyes. But I knew a lot of people. There are times when we simply cannot agree. I don't want to obstruct someone's departure. I don't want to know who done something bad to me. We don't all agree after a while.