Everything is "Fine"

The word "fine" is poisonous. So are the ever-changing moods of an aspiring writer.
Today, I had someone tell me that I'm a goddamn genius, and another tell me that my work is, "fine."
Critic number 1 gushed about my work for several minutes, saying it's "powerful, provocative, and very well-written". She went on to say that one of my poems was so good, she sobbed at the end and had to take a walk to think about everything I'd made her think about with my beautifully crafted work. All of this felt great, until I received an email from critic number 2, who said my work is "fine".
With that one word, I forgot everything that my previous critic had said. If something is fine, it is neither good or bad. It isnt remarkable at all. It's a dishrag that's almost too smelly to keep out on the counter and maybe needs to be thrown in the wash, but not quite yet. It's "fine" for the moment. You dont think about it, you have no feelings whatsoever for the dishrag. You merely wonder if it needs to be washed, then leave it there with an absent toss and walk out of the kitchen to get to more important things.
I suppose this is what it's like. One moment you're brilliant, and in the next, you're a dishrag.
I should be fair to critic number 2. She offered up very helpful and supportive advice and even gave me a few tips on how to get out of the "fine zone". I'm going to take the advice and see how it works out, but it's hard to get past that word. Your eyes and your brain zero in on the four letters even after they're gone from the screen. Nothing else matters if your hard work can only muster up a "fine" review.
This is what worries me. If I react to "fine" with such dramatic bruising, what will happen to me when someone says, "This is NOT good at ALL. This is crap and no one will ever pay you for this."
Hmmm. Clearly, that's a little more damaging than "fine". But the only way to see how I'll react to a comment like that is to keep on going and risk that possibility. If no one ever says that to me, that would be wonderful. But I think the true test of life is to have someone say, "You're no good at what you love to do" and for you to say, "Yes, I am. But thanks for the input". If you, and I, can walk away from that kind of criticism and continue to go for "It", whatever the "It" might be, then you and I have won.
In the end, I will win. And I'll be more than fine.