I mean what I already wrote.

I published a nuanced piece of layered literary fiction that is slightly comedic in tone. It has a lot to say about human nature, love, and parenting. My friend read it, and all she could see was a stereotype — and one that I was subtly subverting, as a matter of fact.

Even though I wrote a piece that featured a three-dimensional person, her own worldview didn’t let her see that.

That’s tiring, and I get it a lot.

It doesn’t cause me to lose my mind, or my grip, or cause me to revert to childish state that I need to grow up from.

But it is real, and it’s something I live with. I made the comment because I thought that was worth pointing out.