Why Your Hate Makes Me Famous, Numpty
Or: The Accidental Love Affair Between Haters and Success

There are moments in life when you open your phone in the morning, scroll through the comments, and there it is: An essay. A proper novel. Three paragraphs brimming with rage, spelling mistakes, and creatively deployed emojis (mostly... and ... ).
Someone actually sat down. Thought. Typed. Deleted. Typed again. Maybe even proofread (but only maybe, the sentence structure gives cause for doubt).
All just to tell you that you’re rubbish.
And do you know what’s hilarious about it?
They just spent more time on you than with their own partner.
Welcome to the wonderfully twisted world where hate is the new marketing.

The Psychology of the Hater
*(or: Why they just can’t stop thinking about you)*

Picture this: You’re successful. Not mega-successful. Not Beyoncé-level. But successful enough that people know your name. That you’re visible. That you—now pay attention—have an opinion you share publicly.
Somewhere out there sits someone. Let’s call him Kevin.
(Apologies to all the decent Kevins out there, but for this story, you’re Kevin.)
Kevin sees you. Kevin doesn’t like you. Technically, he could just scroll on. Plenty of other things on the internet. Cat videos. Cake recipes. The complete season of some random show.
But no.
Kevin stays. Kevin thinks. Kevin types. Kevin posts.
And here’s the magical bit: Kevin gives you his most precious resource.
Not money. Not sympathy. Not even respect.
**Attention.**
And attention, dear Kevin, is the currency of the 21st century.

The Algorithm Loves Drama
*(and Kevin is its best mate)*

Social media algorithms—those mystical robots deciding who gets seen and who disappears—have a favourite.
And it’s not the nice little comment, “Great video! ”
No. The favourite is **ENGAGEMENT.**

Every time Kevin unleashes his furious tirade under your post, this happens:
✓ The algorithm thinks, “Ooh! Drama!”
✓ Your post gets boosted
✓ More people comment
✓ Even more reach
✓ The algorithm: “JACKPOT!”

Kevin thinks he’s hurting you.
Kevin is actually working as your unpaid marketing assistant.
Thanks, Kevin. Invoice coming your way.
(Spoiler: You owe me nothing; you’ve already paid. With your attention.)

Not all hate creates success—but every successful person knows hate.

The Five Phases of a Hater’s Journey
*(An evolution story)*

**Phase 1: Discovery**
“Who is this person? And why do I keep seeing them everywhere?”
Duration: 1 day
Symptoms: Curious clicking, first furrowed brow
Thought: “Interesting. But something’s off.”

**Phase 2: Critical Analysis**
“Wait… that can’t be serious.”
Duration: 3 days
Symptoms: Repeated profile visits (of course, “accidental”)
Thought: “I must keep an eye on this. For… scientific purposes.”

**Phase 3: The First Comment**
“That’s it. I need to get this off my chest.”
Duration: 1 week
Symptoms: Constantly checking for replies
Thought: “They MUST see I’m right!”

**Phase 4: Obsession**
“I HAVE TO WARN EVERYONE!”
Duration: Potentially months (Warning: Chronic!)
Symptoms: Daily profile-checking, commenting on every post. Single. Obsessed.
Thought: “I am the hero speaking the truth!”

**Phase 5: Realisation (optional, rare)**
“Hang on… why am I spending so much time on this?”
Duration: A short, painful moment of self-reflection
Symptoms: Sudden clarity, quietly deleting comments at 3 a.m.
Thought: “Oh. OH. I was the numpty.”

The problem?
Most haters get stuck in Phase 4. Forever.
They build themselves a holiday home there. Balcony with direct view of… your profile.

Rent-free: The finest property in my life.**

There’s a brilliant English concept: *“Living rent-free in someone's head.”*

Kevin wakes up. First thought: “What’s this person posted today?”
Kevin drinks coffee. Second thought: “Better check.”
Kevin works. Third thought: “Just a quick look.”
Kevin goes to bed. Last thought: “I’ll definitely comment tomorrow.”

I am Kevin’s permanent guest.
No rent. No bills. Premium spot in his mental living room.
And the view? Fantastic. (Not always comfortable. But clear.)

While Kevin fusses, I create content. Build my brand. Live my life. Maybe even earn money—thanks to the reach Kevin provides.
Kevin invests his life, energy, and emotions.
In me.
Not in his dreams. Not in his goals. Not in his projects.
In me.

Kevin is no villain. He’s someone who hasn’t found a better outlet for his energy

The Brutal Truth
*(that Kevin doesn’t want to hear)*

Here’s the thing most haters don’t get:
**Indifference is the real killer.**

If tomorrow no one talks about me—truly no one—I’ve got a problem.
If nobody comments on my posts (positive or negative), I’m invisible.
If nobody mentions my name, I’m irrelevant.

Do you know what’s worse than being hated?
Being ignored.

Kevin could stop my success immediately. How?
Stop talking about me.
Stop commenting.
Simply… forget me.

But he won’t.
Because—and here’s where it gets interesting psychologically—Kevin’s hate gives him something:

* A vent for frustration
* A feeling of moral superiority
* An identity (“I’m the one telling the truth!”)
* A community (other haters in the comments)
* A purpose. A meaning.

Kevin needs me more than he admits.
I’m his hobby. His project. His soap opera.
And while he thinks he’s annoying me… he’s paying my rent.
(Metaphorically. Via reach. But hey, reach = cash.)
Thanks, Kevin. Really. Not out of mockery, but clarity.

The Moment Everything Clicks
*(dramatic pause)*

Eventually—usually after the tenth hate comment or first viral “scandal”—comes that magical moment:
You realise: It doesn’t matter.
Not because you’re numb.
But because you’ve understood the game.

The equation is simple:
**Hate = Attention**
**Attention = Reach**
**Reach = Success**
**Success = More Hate**

A cycle. A self-reinforcing system. A wonderfully absurd upward spiral.

And Kevin? Kevin is the engine.

You can get mad. Or you can carry on.
While Kevin types, you build.
While Kevin hates, you create.
While Kevin fights, you live.
You’re busy. With success.

The Highest Form of Revenge
*(Spoiler: It’s not revenge)*

You don’t need to do anything.
No retaliation. No arguing. No explaining.

The best response to hate?
**More success.**
Not out of spite. But as life.

Every new project. Every new follower. Every milestone.
It’s not revenge. It’s just… living.

While Kevin pours his energy into hate, you pour yours into growth.

And eventually you realise:
Kevin was never your enemy. He was your mentor.**
He made you tougher. More resilient. Focused.
He showed you how to handle criticism.
He—unwittingly—built a thick armour around your self-worth.
Thanks, Kevin. Honestly. (Okay, maybe a tad sarcastic. But still.)


The Punchline
*(or: What we can learn from Kevin)*

Here’s the uncomfortable truth for all Kevins out there:
If you talk about someone, you give them power.
If you comment under every post, you boost them.
If you mention their name, you make them famous.

You think you’re pulling them down. You’re lifting them up.
You think you’re hurting them. You’re helping them.
You think you’re the hero of the story. You’re the sidekick in their success story.

And you know what? That’s perfectly fine.
Because in the end, every successful person needs a few Kevins.
Kevins are proof you’re doing something right.
That you’re visible. That you’re relevant. That you can no longer be ignored.

Nobody hates mediocrity.
People hate what stands out. What’s loud. What’s different. What’s successful.

So: Thanks, Kevin.
Thanks for the comments. Thanks for the attention. Thanks for the algorithm boost.
Thanks for investing so much of your time in me.
I’ll keep doing my best to disappoint your expectations.

Epilogue: To All the Kevins
*(yes, that means you)*

If you’re about to type another angry comment under a post—three paragraphs, full of spelling mistakes, at least two insults, and a emoji—and you’re reading this:
**Thanks, numpty.**
(I mean it half in irony, half in genuine gratitude.)

Keep typing.
Every comment boosts the algorithm.
Every mention makes the name more known.
Every minute you spend on me is a minute I’m living rent-free in your head.

**Rent. Free.**
Hate can stay. Sure. It can even speak.
But it’s in the back seat. No Wi-Fi.

I drive.
Hands on the wheel. Eyes forward. Engine running.
Destination: Success.

And you, Kevin? You sit at home, typing comments and wondering why this person keeps growing.
**Plot twist:** YOU make them bigger.

And if you ever feel you’re wasting too much energy on hate:
**Find your own project. Your own passion. Your own goal.**
Invest your energy in YOURSELF instead of others.
Until then?
Thanks for your service. The algorithms send their regards.

♥
P.S.: This text will probably make you angry. Perfect. Write a comment. You know what happens now.