I spent a ridiculous amount of my life trying to be nice.
Not kind.
Nice.
There’s a difference.
Nice says yes when you want to say no.
Nice laughs at something that actually pissed you off.
Nice says, “It’s fine!” when it is very much not fucking fine.
Nice answers the phone when you don't want to talk.
Nice agrees to plans you don't want to attend and then spends the next three days hoping they'll get canceled.
Nice apologizes for things that don't require an apology.
Sorry to bother you.
Sorry, can I ask a question?
Sorry, I can't make it.
Sorry, I need to reschedule.
Sorry, I have an opinion.
Sorry for existing within a six-foot radius of another human being.
Women are really fucking good at this.
And somewhere along the way, a lot of us learned that being a good woman meant being a nice one.
I'm starting to think that's bullshit.
Because nice and good aren't the same thing.
You can be nice and not be particularly good.
We've all met that person.
Sweet as pie to your face.
And the second you leave the room?
Well.
Meanwhile, some of the best people I know aren't always nice.
They tell you the truth.
They call you out when you're being an idiot.
They say no.
They have boundaries.
They don't tolerate people treating them—or someone they love—like shit.
They'll absolutely help you bury a body, but they're also going to spend the entire drive there explaining exactly how your poor decision-making led to this situation.
That's friendship.
Okay.
Please don't bury bodies.
You know what I mean.
I think women are especially afraid of being “difficult.”
God forbid.
A difficult woman.
You know what a difficult woman usually is?
A woman who stopped making herself convenient.
She stopped automatically saying yes.
She stopped smiling when something bothered her.
She stopped explaining every decision.
She stopped answering messages immediately.
She stopped accepting behavior she used to tolerate.
She stopped worrying quite so much about whether everyone liked her.
And suddenly—
She's changed.
Yep.
That was the idea.
No is still a complete sentence.
This one took me a while.
Because I used to think a no required supporting documentation.
“I'm so sorry, I can't because I have this thing and then I have to do this other thing and I would normally absolutely do it but…”
Stop.
You can just say:
No, I can't.
That's it.
You don't need PowerPoint slides.
You don't need three character witnesses.
You don't need to submit your reasoning to a committee for approval.
And sometimes?
You don't even have a reason.
I don't want to is a reason.
We're allowed to not want to do things.
What a concept.
And boundaries aren't mean.
I think that's where a lot of us get stuck.
We confuse disappointing someone with hurting them.
Those aren't always the same thing.
Someone can be disappointed that you said no.
They can be annoyed that you're unavailable.
They can wish you'd made a different decision.
They can even be mad at you.
And you can still have made the right decision.
That's hard when you've spent years measuring your goodness by how comfortable everyone else is around you.
But another person's disappointment isn't automatically evidence that you've done something wrong.
Sometimes it just means they didn't get what they wanted.
They'll live.
You can be kind and still say the uncomfortable thing.
You can love someone and tell them they're wrong.
You can support someone without agreeing with them.
You can forgive someone and still decide they don't get access to you anymore.
You can understand why someone behaves the way they do and still refuse to let them treat you badly.
You can care about someone deeply and say:
This isn't okay.
That's not cruelty.
Sometimes that's the kindest thing you can do.
And sometimes kindness means saying nothing at all and simply walking away.
Also, you're not going to be everyone's cup of tea.
This used to bother me.
A lot.
I wanted people to like me.
Most of us do.
But eventually you realize there are people who are going to misunderstand you no matter how carefully you explain yourself.
People who have already decided who you are.
People who only liked the version of you who never told them no.
People who benefited from you having absolutely no boundaries.
And when you change?
They're probably not going to throw you a parade.
That's okay.
Not everyone needs to like you.
You don't like everyone either.
Why are we pretending otherwise?
Being a good person looks different to me now.
I don't think it's about being agreeable.
I don't think it's about always being available.
And I definitely don't think it's about keeping everyone happy.
I think being good is about how you treat people.
It's being honest.
Showing up when it matters.
Owning your mistakes.
Apologizing when you actually owe an apology.
Keeping your word.
Standing up for people.
Being generous when you can.
Giving grace.
Having empathy.
Doing the right thing when nobody is watching.
And yes—
sometimes doing the right thing is going to piss somebody off.
So… I'm probably not always going to be nice.
I'll try to be kind.
I'll try to be fair.
I'll try to listen.
I'll admit when I'm wrong.
I'll apologize when I've hurt someone.
I'll show up for the people I love.
But I'm also going to say no.
I'm going to have opinions.
I'm going to change my mind.
I'm going to protect my time.
I'm going to speak up when something isn't okay.
And I'm going to stop apologizing simply because someone doesn't like the answer I gave them.
If that occasionally makes me difficult?
I can live with that.
Because I'd rather be a genuinely good woman with boundaries than a really nice woman who's quietly fucking miserable.
And if you're working on becoming a little less “nice,” too?
Come sit by me.
I have coffee.
And apparently opinions.