v.23 The Exhausting Game of Being 'Nice': Why Can’t We Just Say What We Mean?
Welcome to Life, Created—a new [old school] blog for modern times. This twice-a-week(ish) dispatch is a space for us to dig deeper, recognize microjoys and build community beyond the mindless scroll.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about how much energy we waste trying to be palatable to others. The mental gymnastics, the careful wording, the endless overthinking—it’s exhausting.
Somewhere along the way, we were taught that directness is impolite, that honesty—unless carefully wrapped in “niceness”—is rude. So, we learned to soften, sidestep, and prioritize being liked over being clear. We do the dance—hesitating, downplaying our opinions, and diluting our words.
Add to that a culture where people fear saying the wrong thing, terrified of being publicly shamed forever. So instead, we overthink every word, water down our opinions, and bury what we actually mean beneath layers of politeness, hoping to avoid backlash. I fucking hate it, it drives me up the wall. And frankly, it’s so boring.
I know I’m coming in hot, but hear me out: Lately, as I meet more and more people, I find myself in conversations where I genuinely have no idea what the other person is trying to say. I hear niceness but I don’t hear substance. Instead of speaking plainly, they tiptoe, hedge, and wrap their words in bubble wrap, trying not to say the wrong thing. I’m not suggesting that rudeness is the answer, but I do wonder what would happen if people as brilliant as they are were more direct in their words. I can’t help but think that something bigger is at play as we navigate this post-pandemic world—because yes, five years later, many of us are still socially figuring it out.
I suspect this starts young. Somewhere between learning how to share and being told to be “nice,” we absorb the idea that speaking clearly is risky. Don’t be too opinionated. Don’t piss people off. And for the love of all things holy, don’t make anyone (gasp!) uncomfortable.
I was raised adjacent to this thinking, but Mama Shelley did not subscribe. If you asked her opinion, you got it. If you didn’t ask, you still got it. Did it piss people off? Absolutely. Often. But she was also deeply trusted by others. People knew she wouldn’t bullshit them or dance around the truth. There’s a whole lot to be said for that.
And yet, even with mom as my unapologetic role model, I’ve still felt the impulse to soften, to play along. Not in a full-blown people-pleasing way, but just enough to keep things smooth. If someone is being passive-aggressive, instead of shutting it down, I catch myself mirroring their energy—adjusting, performing, keeping the peace. And before I know it, I’m caught up in their weird little game, wondering how the hell I got here.
But the bigger struggle for me is when people are just...passive. Not passive-aggressive, not confrontational—just vague. My instinct is to respond with honesty because, well, why wouldn’t we just say what we mean? But I also don’t want to bulldoze people. This is especially obvious when I visit the Midwest, where niceness is practically a regional currency.
A simple question like, “What would you like?” turns into a multi-round negotiation of deflections.
“Oh, I don’t care, whatever sounds good to you!” (Clearly, not true.)
I choose something. Pause. Energy shift. And suddenly, I know, without knowing how I know, that I have chosen...incorrectly. It’s an unspoken social contract that I never signed but somehow feel obligated to honor.
And then there’s the universally infamous “That’s interesting.” What the hell does this even mean?! Does it mean That’s interesting? Or does it mean I deeply disagree but will not be addressing it? Or maybe I have no opinion, but I feel obligated to acknowledge your words? Who’s to say!?
So here’s my working “theory”: The world does not need more people tap-dancing around their hearts and words. What we actually need are more empathetic people who are brave enough to speak up with clarity (when it’s safe to do so). More people willing to say, “This is what I think” or “This is what I know,” even when it’s not perfectly packaged. We need fewer exhausting back-and-forths, less passive-aggression, and more direct, clean communication.
And listen, I get it—it’s not always easy. If you’ve spent a lifetime shrinking yourself to be nice, suddenly flipping a switch and becoming the most direct person in the room isn’t realistic. So start small. Say no without over-explaining. Switch “I guess” to “I’d prefer not to.” And remember—honesty and kindness aren’t opposites; we can be both.
What if we simply said what we mean and meant what we say? If it’s a no, let it be a no. If it’s a yes, let it be a resounding yes. The people who matter will respect it. And the ones who don’t? They’ll adjust. Or they won’t. Either way, you’ll know you were honest—with others and with yourself.
P.S. If you need a further reminder, check out this collection that I created— I am not for everyone. I’m not exaggerating when I say that hundreds of you have picked up one item or another.
This week’s full moon had me losing my damn mind—questioning humanity, forgetting why I walked into rooms, and feeling angry for no reason at all. But then, out of zero necessity, I thrifted the most gloriously tacky leopard-and-palm-tree bookends. They don’t match our pop-colored decor, and I certainly don’t need big ass bookends to take up more of my already over-full shelves, but for $9.99? Obviously, they had to come home with me. And just like that, between deadlines, deep thoughts, and the lunar chaos, a moment of clarity. Proof that even when life feels bizarre, the right amount of tacky can still be a microjoy.
That’s all for today. Thanks for reading Life, Created.
With love, wisdom [and small mercies] from Montclair. xx
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