Apparently, Being Nice Wasn’t in My Job Description After All

I had an interesting revelation back in my Match.com days.

I didn’t have to respond to every man who messaged me.

I know. Groundbreaking stuff.

But for someone who had spent a good portion of her life trying to be nice, accommodating, and considerate of everyone’s feelings, this was practically revolutionary.

I remember looking at a profile and thinking, Nope. Not for me.

And then came the familiar little voice.

Well, maybe you should at least respond. He took the time to write you.

And suddenly I thought, Wait a minute. I don’t even know this man. Why am I worried about hurting his feelings?

Seriously!

Somewhere along the way, I’d apparently appointed myself Director of Other People’s Feelings.

Unpaid position. Terrible benefits. Absolutely no vacation time.

And I suspect I’m not the only woman who’s held that job.

We say yes when we’d rather say no.

We explain ourselves when a simple “No, thank you” would do.

We tolerate conversations we’d rather escape.

And sometimes we give people the benefit of the doubt so many times that the doubt should probably have its own retirement account.

All because we don’t want to seem rude.

Now, don’t misunderstand me. I believe in kindness. I value consideration and treating people with respect.

But I’ve come to realize that kindness and obligation are two very different things.

And somewhere in my life, I’d gotten them a little tangled up.

What’s funny is that this revelation happened while I was going through breast cancer treatment.

Yes, apparently between working, radiation appointments, and figuring out what the heck was happening in my life, I still found time to browse Match.com.

A girl’s got to have priorities.

But something had shifted in me.

I wasn’t interested in explaining away pink flags anymore.

I wasn’t interested in compromising what I wanted just because someone showed an interest.

And I certainly wasn’t interested in spending my limited time trying to make complete strangers feel better about being complete strangers I didn’t want to date.

It wasn’t about becoming cold or uncaring.

It was about finally recognizing that my time and energy mattered, too.

And here’s the part that still makes me smile.

I finished radiation in November.

In January, I went on my first date with Stephen.

And today, he’s my husband.

Now, I’m not suggesting that ignoring men on Match.com is the secret to finding a good husband.

Although, in retrospect, it did make the screening process considerably more efficient.

But I do wonder how many of us are still carrying around little obligations we never actually agreed to.

How many times do we say yes simply because saying no feels uncomfortable?

How often do we worry more about disappointing someone else than disappointing ourselves?

And when did being a good person become synonymous with being endlessly available?

I’m still a work in progress. Probably always will be.

But these days, I try to remember that I can be kind without being accommodating to everyone.

I can care about people without being responsible for their reactions.

And I can say no without preparing a closing argument worthy of a courtroom drama.

Turns out, being a good woman doesn’t require being everyone’s favorite woman.

Who knew?