Tenderness and longing of my heart

Can my tenderness and longing of my heart ever be embraced, understood. Will I forever be a slave to my exterior, to others misunderstandings and projections of me. Will others always see the monster in Charles Bukowski and not his tender heart. Will I always be a target of emotional assassination, because of my tenderness and daring outside of the conventional. Will these I know and don't know forever try to destroy me on different levels and not comprehend, cherish and nourish my tender longings of my being.