I have always considered myself extremely difficult to anger. Those around me would seem to agree. A friend, after knowing me for four years, was shocked to see me irritated at a colleague who was deeply entrenched in his own stupidity.
There is a very good reason for this. For many years, I grew up around my mother, whose voice on the daily would rain down upon me a shower of fire and brimstone. After facing such a veritable hellscape of abuse, I burn no longer.
I have been asked about how I simply seem not to care about those who mean to demean me. To them I respond that what has been said in that instance was a far cry from the things I've heard. What should I care some insignificant thing some no name has to say about me? That simply cannot match up to the deluge of bone rending insults I have faced; insults that come from a person who should care for you most, yet seem to be aimed at tearing apart the very sinew of your being. A stranger's words cannot match up to the targeted, malicious ravings of one close to you, especially one you are obligated to forgive in order to receive sustenance.
Thus I say, do not burn, do not blush, do not shudder, and consider the value in what others have to say. Should someone wish to blindly attack and make a fool of themselves with empty words, let them do so. Do not join them, for what is there then than to be as great of a fool as they.