Nobody wants to “be difficult.”
Those words have stigma tattooed right across their rear. Just hearing them makes you think of that psycho in line at the grocery store, berating the cashier for not accepting her expired coupon. (She’s also wearing Uggs, for the record, and DEFINITELY has a soggy cigarette hanging out of her mouth.)
But the older I get, the more I am convinced that there is superficial difficult, like that—difficult for the sake of being difficult—but also important difficult, like the kind where you insist on something that matters.
Sometimes, being difficult is an act of devotion.
Sometimes, making waves is the only way you'll end up making anything at all.