Najois

Or at least be sincere. You are often not a nice person when you think you are.

Sucks to read, but if you really think about a person, and why you are being “nice” to them, what is the real reason behind it? 

You know that person that you gossip about, and when you see them, you have the biggest smile. Aren’t you nice?

Or your en vogue activism that jumps from one repost to another, from one emotional outburst of “empathy” soon to be forgotten as soon as you turn off the social interactions.

Aren’t you nice? (laughing in Joker)

Most of us that are on the “I am so nice”-spectrum are often more passive aggressive than nice. But hey, as long as others don’t see inside my heart and my head, I can keep lying to myself, right?

Why the façade?

Why would I gift someone with the compassionate opportunity to hear their flaws, and thus help them to grow? And become strong. Because it is through our flaws that we become strong. When we embrace them and know how to utilise them. Instead of passing a lifetime of manipulating others, thinking they don’t see us as we are. At least partly.

Because for most of us, being nice is transactional. 

I am nice because:

I don’t want to hurt her feelings,

I think it is rude to tell people what I really feel about them,

They will leave me if I am sincere,

I disappear until I have forgotten the anger I felt for them, the I reappear

And the worse:

They should understand on their own (yes, Nostradamus)

Those that do not use transactional kindness, we hate. They are selfish and mean, right?

So I thought to myself, I am really not a nice person. I had all those nasty feelings about some people, and yes you do too booboo, yet the darker my resentment, the nastier my gossip, and the more I turn into a “holy Mary in the fields” on the outside.

But hey, at least I am being nice? Kind and compassionate.

Since I have understood this hidden mechanism within me, have I become nice?

Absolutely not ! (laughs in elated Joker, spit flying around)

What has changed is that I have somehow managed to being a little less false: 

I embrace that humans are not ideas. Nor are they dogmas.

I can aim at virtues, and have a guideline for life, yet I should be honest in may self-assessment and not confuse what I aim at with the reality of my actions. I may not act in the way I believe I do. Perhaps I am not an ideal.

That I have all the emotions. Not only the cute ones. I am a human being. A human adult. And not that little girl that had to be nice above all, in order not to disturb, enrage or trigger the adults that I was depending on.

*because I am not like my narcissistic mother and my abusive father, so I HAVE to be a hero ! boohoo