Have you ever felt disappointed when someone criticized your favorite TV show, movie, or book? Maybe felt angry when a person had harsh words for a political view you hold?

You're not alone—it’s happens to many of us. 

The truth is, we have all fallen into the trap of making our opinions a central part of who we are, so that criticism of something ends up feeling like a critique of someone, us!

It’s never fun to feel like you are being attacked, so how can we change this?

How do we avoid taking offense the next time someone rolls up and uses harsh words to judge something we hold dear?

It starts with our choice of language.

"I just saw the latest Marvel movie, and it is terrible!"

"I went out and saw the new Pixar movie, and it’s the best movie I've ever seen!"

As someone who loves film, hearing bold, emotional statements like these always piques my interest. Whenever someone makes a strong claim about a movie, I usually stop and ask, “Why did you feel that way?”

Was it the plot, the actors, the effects? 

Most of the time, their answers come down to “vibes” or expectations—rarely specifics.

We’ve grown accustomed to using extreme language to express our opinions.

As we escalate our language, we start turning feelings into declarations of fact. By making our opinions sound objective, they start shaping how we see ourselves.

Once opinions are part of our core identity, criticism no longer feels like a disagreement—it feels like a personal attack. 

This happens when our opinions and preferences become fused with our identity.

The truest part of who we are has become surrounded by a latticework of media, personalities, groups, and our fandoms.

When we hear criticism aimed at the scaffolding of our beliefs, it isn’t just seen as challenging our external views; it’s a challenge to who we are internally, at our core.

Much of this emotional attachment is engineered. 

The things we love—movies, sports teams, political figures—are marketed to us in ways that encourage deeper attachment. 

Social media platforms amplify this by often only showing us content that either supports our views or directly challenges them, keeping us engaged and emotionally invested.

Over time, this constant exposure turns into emotionally charged opinions, then hardens into “truths,” leading finally to confirmation bias. 

The more we surround ourselves with people who reinforce our opinions, the harder it becomes to see outside our bubbles.

This attachment creates real problems. 

Take something as simple as being a Star Wars fan. 

If someone says, “the Star Wars movies are terrible, I hate them” and you've tied that fandom to your identity (like I did), it can feel like they’re attacking you personally. 

But Star Wars is just media at the end of the day—it doesn’t define who you are. Nonetheless, annoyance, anger, and disappointment spawned by the interaction can feel very real.

If our opinions shape our identity, we become defensive and closed off. We have a hard time accepting opposing views and losing out on growth opportunities, all to protect our feelings.

In my life, “unfandoming” has meant separating my core identity from my preferences. It’s about enjoying things without letting them define me. 

For anything I hold dear, I’ve found reflecting on my opinions and then asking myself, “If someone disagrees with me on this idea, does their opinion challenge how I see myself? How I value them?

If the answer is yes, it’s time to reassess that position.

Detaching my identity from my opinions has allowed me to stay open and grow deeper roots.

It has enabled me to allow my beliefs to be challenged without feeling threatened, turning what would have been strong arguments into opportunities to learn and even be humbled in areas I’m incorrect.

When we internalize our opinions, we prevent growth.

It can lead to turning a blind eye to anything that would lead us outside of our comfort zone and challenge the identity we have created.

By keeping our interests and opinions separate from our identities, we can reflect when new viewpoints come along, instead of dismissing them or taking offense.

This in turn deepens our validated opinions and confirms them with truth by testing them regularly. Then if we discover we want to change likes or that we no longer agree with a position based on new evidence, we can easily let them go without feeling like we are tearing a part of ourselves out with them.

Until next time,
Addison

PS: I’m going to start releasing these on Fridays from now on. The schedule fits better and it gives everyone time to read it over the weekend. Hope you enjoy!