We’ve all encountered them. In the dimly lit corners of online forums, in the snide remark at a community event, or festering in the comment section of a young creator’s first viral video. They are the perpetual botherers, the ones who seem to have made it their personal hobby to dim the light of others, particularly the young, the eager, and the just-starting-out.This isn’t about constructive criticism, offered from a place of experience and genuine care. This is something else entirely—a specific brand of personality that seeks out emerging talent, fresh perspectives, and unbridled enthusiasm not to nurture, but to puncture. They come with a dripping condescension, a need to prove someone wrong, or a cryptic, gatekeeping comment designed to make a beginner feel small and foolish.
If you look closely, a pattern emerges. These individuals are very rarely happy or successful in their own pursuits. This isn’t a coincidence; it’s the core of the phenomenon. A person who is truly fulfilled, who is engaged in the satisfying work of building their own dreams, doesn’t have the time or the psychic energy to meticulously tear down the scaffolds of others. Their creativity is spent on creation, not demolition.The act of bothering the young and enthusiastic is, at its heart, a deflection. It is the redirection of a profound internal dissatisfaction outward. When your own path feels barren, blocked by resentment or a history of perceived failures, the shiny, untraveled road of someone else can become an infuriating glare. Their hope is a mirror reflecting back your own cynicism, and the instinct isn’t to polish the mirror, but to shatter it. By saying “You don’t know what you’re doing” or “That will never work,” they are often speaking to their own past selves, or justifying their own inertia.
There’s also a perverse, bitter currency in this behavior. In realms where they have failed to earn respect through accomplishment, they attempt to mint it through dominance. They establish a sad little kingdom where the only rule is that no one gets to feel good about their work without their permission, which is always withheld. It’s a hollow authority, built not on a throne of achievement, but on a pile of discarded hopes—mostly their own.
For the young person on the receiving end, it’s crucial to recognize this dynamic for what it is. The criticism isn’t about your work; it’s about the critic’s emptiness. The harsh words are not a measure of your potential, but a measurement of their own gaping lack. The most powerful defense is to see the shadow cast by this person and understand that a shadow cannot exist without a figure standing with its back to the light.
The next time you encounter this personality—the one that seems to feed on the insecurity of others—look past the noise. You will likely find a person who has stopped building, who has confused realism with despair, and who mistakes the act of throwing mud for one of strength. Their hobby reveals everything about them, and nothing about you. Keep building. Your progress, your persistence, and your joy are the very things their world lacks. Don’t let someone who has abandoned their own journey convince you to hesitate on yours.
