No more Mr. Nice Guy

Since I’ve started taking care of myself, I stopped being nice. I still strive to be courteous, patient, kind, and respectful. But not nice. Nice has nothing to do with the positive qualities that go with being a decent person.

To explain, I’ll share a bit about my history.

Growing up, I was rewarded for being perfect. I was praised for doing well in school, which included getting into the gifted program and earning a 4.0 GPA in high school. I was valued for what I achieved, whether it was my bar mitzvah or earning my Eagle Scout. I don’t regret the choices I made, and I wouldn’t take back the things I’ve accomplished. But I must also look at the downsides of these experiences.

I grew up feeling that love had to be earned, and it could be taken away if I didn’t live up to my parents’ expectations. Part of those expectations was to be a good little boy and do what I was told. I couldn’t complain, speak up for myself, or express any emotion that wasn’t bland compliance. I had to be nice.

Being nice is a horrible enough expectation to put on women. It’s worse when it’s put on men. When we are already levied with the equally unhealthy expectations of aggression, swagger, and invulnerability, being a nice guy inflicts a double curse. We don’t want to seem weaker than we already are, so we mask those dysfunctional macho traits with our…