As a poet, I live with a symbolic asterisk by my name in SoCal.

Keeping this brief--whenever I receive a compliment from a fellow poet, it's usually in private (on rare occasions, public) and it is accompanied by a statement that, in essence, goes like this:
"I like you even though a lot of the poetry community doesn't."

There are times when I feel the heavy-blanket temptation to agree with my detractors that everything's my fault and I'm solely responsible for closing doors and turning away people supportive of my poetry (which may not be the case since the current scene has a somewhat-narrow definition of what's "good").

The reality is a bit more complicated.  I behaved badly in public a few times years ago and apologized--and, with one glaring exception, was forgiven.  Otherwise, I've been hazed (sometimes anonymously) for speaking up about things I didn't like in the scene and mentioning some poetic leaders by name; the latter has provoked supersonic freakouts of the "he/she's the Emperor, you can't say those things about him/her" variety.

So, I live with the qualifier of a "bad person" asterisk by my name which will remain for years with those people in SoCal poetry interested in gossip as a tool of behavior/poetry booking control.

And anything good I do (or try to do) will mainly be acknowledged by others in one-to-one privacy.