Hey everyone, it’s Tina. Pull up a chair, grab a beverage (preferably something stronger than tea, but I’m not judging), and let’s have a real-to-life heart-to-heart.
I’m going to say this slowly, calmly, and with my chest—because this didn’t come from nowhere. I posted something today that felt like a spiritual exhale: “If I ever did you dirty, you worked hard for that.”
I know, I know. On the surface, it sounds a little “feisty Tina.” Maybe even a little “villain era.” But if you actually know me—the Tina who will literally apologize to a mannequin if I bump into it—then you know that for me to “do someone dirty,” a literal Herculean effort must have been made on their part. We aren’t talking about a casual mistake. We are talking about a full-time, 40-hour-a-week commitment to being a nightmare.
I like to think I have the patience of a saint. Not a fancy saint, maybe one of the tired ones who’s just trying to get through a Tuesday. I give chances. I give “benefit of the doubt” sandwiches for lunch. I will look at someone treating me like garbage and think, “Maybe they just haven’t had their coffee?” or “Maybe their childhood pet was a mean turtle?”
I’m not naturally a messy person. I don’t wake up plotting on people. If anything, I’m usually the one explaining things that don’t need explaining and extending grace like it’s a clearance sale. But here’s the thing about people like us: Our “done” is silent.
We endure. We pivot. We excuse. And then, one day, the meter hits red. The “Work Hard” part of that quote is what people forget. To get me to the point where I finally stop being the “bigger person” and start matching your energy, you had to:
• Ignore every polite boundary I set.
• Take my kindness for a weakness (classic mistake, honestly).
• Gaslight me so hard I started questioning if the sky was actually blue.
There is a specific kind of person who acts shocked when you finally react. They’ll spend months poking the bear, and then when the bear finally says, “Hey, please stop poking me, or I will eat your hat,” they run around telling everyone the bear is aggressive. Suddenly you’re “different,” “cold,” or “acting brand new.”
No. I’m just done.
I don’t flip on people overnight. I don’t go from loving you to cutting you off because of one mistake. You usually get multiple opportunities to do better. Probably more than you deserved. I’ll sit with discomfort longer than I should, hoping things improve, hoping you’ll meet me halfway. But once I reach my limit? Oh, it’s quiet. Calm. Final.
And that’s the part that throws people off. Because when I finally decide I’m done, there’s no screaming, no drama, no long explanations. Just a shift. Less access. Less energy. Less of me. And somehow that hurts more than any argument ever could.
I think we’ve all been there. You spend so much time trying to be the “nice one” that you end up feeling like a doormat. But there is a certain, strange peace that comes with finally letting someone experience the consequences of their own actions.
It’s not about being “dirty” in a mean way. It’s about Reciprocity. If you treat me like an option, don’t be surprised when I make you an absence. If you worked that hard to lose my trust, who am I to deny you the prize you fought so hard for? Listen, if I finally stopped answering your texts, or if I didn’t invite you to that thing—congratulations. You hit the jackpot. You put in the overtime. You stayed late at the “Annoy Tina” office and finally got that promotion to Persona Non Grata.
Growth has taught me something important: protecting my peace isn’t being petty. It’s being responsible for my mental and emotional well-being. I don’t owe anyone unlimited access to me, especially if they keep showing me they don’t value it.
To my friends who are reading this and panicking: If you’re worried this is about you, it’s probably not. People who “work hard” to get on my bad side usually have zero self-awareness that they’re even doing it.
To everyone else: Stop feeling guilty for finally standing up for yourself. When someone says, “You did me wrong,” I have to ask—did I really? Or did I just stop allowing you to do me wrong?
At this stage in my life, I move with intention. I love deeply, but I protect myself harder. I don’t seek revenge—I seek peace. And sometimes peace looks like distance, silence, or simply not showing up the way I used to. If I ever did you dirty… trust me. That wasn’t my first choice. That was the final chapter after many pages of patience.
And honestly? I sleep just fine at night.
Stay spicy, stay kind (until it’s time not to be), and for the love of everything, don’t make me work this hard to like you.
— Tina 💫
Very nice.