If Being Honest Makes Me Difficult, Then I’ll Own It

I remember this one time, years ago, a female coworker told me I had an aggressive personality. That completely threw me off. I’ve always dealt with social anxiety, I overthink literally every interaction, and I try really hard to treat people the way I’d want to be treated—politely and kindly.

Thinking about it now, I guess it’s probably because I don’t really sugarcoat things. I’m direct. I’ve always been that way with close friends and family. I don’t think I’m doing anyone any favors by not being honest with them. That’s kind of the whole point of being close to someone, right?

But when it came to everyone else, I usually stayed quiet. I didn’t want to say something that might piss someone off just because I didn’t agree with them or had a different idea. So instead of speaking up, I’d just keep it to myself.

I don’t really know when the shift happened—when I stopped being so meek and started being more direct. But I do know where the meekness came from. I was the weird kid who went from private Catholic school to public school, and it was obvious I didn’t fit in. The way I thought, the values I held onto—they were just different. So I got quiet. I was constantly worried about what people thought of me because I already felt out of place.

The more direct side? That came later. Probably from working downtown. From being in friendships where I was always the one compromising just to keep the peace and avoid hearing people complain. From dealing with people who took my kindness as a weakness. And just from seeing how much shit goes unchecked because people stay quiet. At some point, I realized nothing changes if no one says anything. If I kept staying silent, I was basically saying it was okay to keep doing the same stuff.

Fear definitely played a role, too. Fear of being dismissed, or told I didn’t know what I was talking about. But I’ve learned that holding back—especially when something’s bothering me or I know saying something could actually help—just leads to resentment. And once resentment kicks in, I start to check out. I’ll still do what needs to be done, but that extra effort, the part where I care enough to go above and beyond? That’s gone.

And that’s a draining place to be. Being annoyed, irritated, full of resentment—it takes way more energy than just being present and saying what needs to be said. That’s when the overthinking starts, the obsessing, and that never ends well.

So now, when I catch myself slipping into that obsessive headspace, I have to remind myself to step back. Pull away from the situation for a few minutes. Take a breath. Let my thoughts settle so I can come back to it with a clearer head. It sounds simple, but it’s not something that just happens on its own. I have to actively be present and aware of what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling, and why. That’s the only way I can really ground myself and not let those thoughts spiral.

These last few weeks have felt like tests. And if I’m being honest, when I feel wronged, I usually don’t pass. But I’m trying to keep in mind that yeah, maybe something was done that wasn’t right—but if I let that feeling take over and react out of spite, then I’m just dropping down to their level. And I know I’m better than that.

Going tit for tat doesn’t solve anything. It just gives that person more of my energy than they deserve. And at the end of the day, how they act says way more about them than it does about me. I’d rather stick to who I am—someone who leads with integrity and holds onto their morals—even when it’s hard.

And honestly, even if what I’m saying is true, I don’t want to be the kind of person who tears someone down just to make a point. I’m direct and honest, yeah—but that didn’t always come naturally. I only really started being that way with everyone in my life maybe ten or twelve years ago. Before that, I kept a lot in. Stayed quiet. Avoided conflict like the plague. But now that I’ve found my voice, I’ve had to figure out how to use it without letting it get sharp just because I’m hurt or feel disrespected.

Because when I feel wronged, the words that come out of my mouth can be ruthless. And even if I’m right—even if the truth is valid—I don’t want to be that person who makes someone feel like shit just to prove a point. I’d rather bite my tongue for a second and say it directly, clearly—but not mean. There’s a difference.

And I’m still learning how to live in that space—even when people think I’m a bitch just because I’m being direct. It’s frustrating, yeah. But I’d rather someone think that than bite my tongue, stay quiet, or end up pissed off or annoyed. At least if I’m honest, I know I’m being real. I can live with that. At the end of the day, I’d rather speak up—even if it makes people uncomfortable—than stay silent. If my honesty rubs people the wrong way, that’s on them.