For most of my life, I thought being the “nice guy” was a badge of honor. I believed that if I was always agreeable, accommodating, and self-sacrificing—especially in romantic relationships—I’d be loved deeper, appreciated more, and protected from the pain of rejection or betrayal. Turns out, I was wrong. Not just wrong, but devastatingly wrong.
Being the “nice guy” didn’t keep me safe. It got me used. It got me gaslighted, manipulated, and drained. Emotionally. Psychologically. Sometimes even spiritually.
I wasn’t always in relationships where my kindness was met with the same. Too often, it was weaponized. Too often, I was trying to love someone into healing while I bled out from their neglect or abuse. I was the guy who forgave too quickly, compromised too often, and stayed too long. I confused being nice with being kind. I thought that if I just gave more, bent further, or stayed quiet when I wanted to scream, I’d finally be enough for them. Spoiler alert: I never was. Because I wasn’t showing up as myself. I was showing up as a doormat.
The truth is, “nice” isn’t always nice. It’s often just fear dressed in polite clothes. Fear of conflict. Fear of abandonment. Fear of being alone.
But in the last 7 months, something shifted. I’ve been living alone for the first time in a long time. And in that solitude, I found strength. I found clarity. I found me.
And over the last 12 months, I’ve also been walking the full-time solopreneur path—building my business brick by brick, hour by hour, facing rejection, grinding through setbacks, and learning how to rely on no one but myself. It taught me what real resilience looks like. It taught me how to keep showing up, even when no one’s clapping. And it gave me a powerful truth: I don’t need to be a “nice guy” to be a good man.
Kindness is not weakness. Empathy is not submission. Compassion is not compliance.
And being a good person doesn’t mean tolerating bad behavior.
These days, I hold people accountable—especially myself. If you say you’re going to do something, do it. If you make a promise, keep it. If you screw up, own it. I don’t need perfection, but I demand integrity—from myself and from the people in my circle.
I’m no longer afraid to say “no.”
I’m no longer afraid to walk away.
I’m no longer afraid to call bullshit when I see it—on others or myself.
Because being nice got me nowhere but heartbroken.
Being real—being whole—is where I found freedom.
There’s a reason “nice guys finish last.” It’s because we weren’t taught to finish strong. We were taught to keep the peace, even when there was a war inside us. We were taught to please others, even when it crushed our self-worth. But now? I’m done finishing last. I’m done sacrificing my dignity for someone else’s comfort.
I’m not your enemy. I’m not your savior.
I’m the sheepdog now—kind and steady—but fierce when necessary. Especially when protecting myself.
And if I see you being taken advantage of, I’ll step in then too.
This version of me isn’t less loving. He’s just less tolerant of lies, manipulation, and emotional games. He’s not a “nice guy.” He’s a good man with a backbone, a mission, and a deeply rooted respect for himself.
So here’s to the death of the “nice guy.”
And the rebirth of someone far more dangerous—someone kind, awake, and unwilling to live a life of quiet resentment.
I’m not afraid to walk alone anymore.
Because I’ve got my own back.
And that’s all I ever really needed.
Let me know if you’d like a shortened version for social media or to expand this into a full series about healing and self-worth.
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