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The Hidden Dangers of Being a ‘Nice’ Guy: A Confession
I spent years being ‘nice,’ only to realize I was pretty awful
I’ve been thinking a lot lately — maybe it’s because I’m 35, maybe it’s because I have a daughter, or maybe it’s just… gestures wildly at the world — but I’m starting to look back and see how easily I could have gone down a very different path. This isn’t what I usually write about. But, if you’ll allow me, this is the story of how I, a recovering “nice guy,” narrowly avoided becoming something I might now despise, especially as political lines continue to harden in the US. It feels like half the world has turned away from empathy altogether. And to non-Americans exhausted by us, I’m sorry, I’m exhausted too.
The “Nice Guy” Mask
For most of my life, I’d have told you I was one of the good ones. I was a little nerdy and socially awkward, and deep down, I thought of myself as “nice.” I didn’t realize being “nice” wasn’t always genuinely kind. Back then, though, my “nice guy” identity was a bit of a shield — one that hid my insecurities and convinced me that any criticism, especially from women, was unfair. Why? Because I was one of the “good guys,” right?
Well, that self-image started to crack when I got into my first real relationship, which turned out to be……
