Who Cares If They Don’t Like You? Like You Anyway.

You did the work.
You stopped lying to yourself.
You stopped swallowing the same beige bullshit that most people call a life.

You adjusted your inputs.
You sat in the dark long enough to hear your own voice again.
You cracked open your ribcage and rearranged the furniture inside.

You made yourself real again.

And then you went out into the world —
And what did you get for your trouble?

Silence. Side-eyes. Rejection. Performative concern.
People asking why you’re “so intense” now.
Why you “changed.”

Of course they ask.
They’re still asleep.
They didn’t change.

You did.
And they don’t know what to do with that.

So now you’re standing there, freshly rebuilt,
and suddenly wondering if you should go back to being a cardboard cutout.
If maybe all that work wasn’t worth it.
If maybe being “liked” is better than being alive.

Let me stop you right there:

Fuck that.

You’re not entitled to applause.
You’re not entitled to being understood.
You’re not even entitled to basic decency from people whose souls are on permanent vacation.

You’re entitled to your efforts.
That’s it.

The world doesn’t owe you a standing ovation for becoming yourself.
Because the world doesn’t want real people.
The world wants nice people.

And “nice” is a sin.

Nice is fake.
Nice is hollow.
Nice is what people do when they want to be liked more than they want to be known.

Nice is a handshake where a scream should be.
Nice is a birthday post for someone you haven’t thought about in a decade.
Nice is giving five stars to a Lyft driver who almost killed you because “he was polite.”

Nice is not kindness.
Nice is not honesty.
Nice is a mask.

And if you live behind a mask long enough, don’t be surprised when no one really sees you.
You traded truth for tolerability.
You became pleasant instead of present.

And here’s the thing:

If you’ve got you — the real you — and even one other person who sees you clearly and doesn’t flinch?

You’re rich.
You’re saved.
You’re fucking blessed.

Everyone else?
Background noise.

Stop asking the world to like you.
Start daring them to know you.

And if they can’t handle it?
If they back away?
If they unfollow, unfriend, unsubscribe?

Good.
Let them go be “nice” somewhere else.

Because we’re not here to be digestible.
We’re not here to be polite.
We’re here to live honest lives with our whole fucking chest.

You want connection?
You want truth?
Then stop curating your personality like a LinkedIn profile.
Say what you mean.
Mean what you say.
Burn the costume.

Be kind if you want to.
Be generous.
Be dangerous.
Be you.

But whatever you do —
don’t be nice.