If you’ve ever been the person in the room who accidentally (or very purposefully) lets the truth slip out before your brain’s “Social Filter™” can intervene, then pull up a chair. We are officially in this together.
I saw a quote the other day that basically summed up my entire personality in four lines. It said that my “problem” is that I’m not scared of nobody, so I say exactly what I want, when I want. It mentioned not sugarcoating things or lying just to fit in, and how that leads to being “disliked” because I won’t be a “yes man.” When I read it, I didn’t feel insulted. I felt seen.
Let’s be honest: life would be so much quieter if I could just nod and smile when someone suggests an idea that is—objectively speaking—hot garbage. But for some reason, my facial muscles just won’t cooperate. If I’m thinking, “That’s the worst plan I’ve ever heard,” my eyebrows are already halfway to my hairline before I can stop them.
I’ve realized that I have a serious allergy to sugarcoating. You know the type—where people wrap a difficult truth in so many layers of “with all due respect” and “just my humble opinion” that by the time they get to the point, you’ve forgotten what you were talking about. I don’t have the stamina for that. If the dress makes you look like a giant loofah, I’m going to tell you. Not because I’m mean, but because I care about you enough to not let you walk into a party looking like a bath accessory!
We live in a world that rewards “Yes Men.” If you agree with everyone, you’re “easy to work with.” But here’s the thing: I’m not a golden retriever. I don’t have an internal drive to make sure everyone is patting me on the head. Being “not easily influenced” is a bit of a double-edged sword:
• The Pro: I never end up in a pyramid scheme or wearing a trend that looks ridiculous on me.
• The Con: I am rarely the person invited to the “let’s all pretend we like this person” brunch.
And you know what? I’m okay with that. There is a certain kind of freedom that comes from knowing that the people who do like you, like the actual, raw, unedited version of you. They aren’t friends with a character you’re playing; they’re friends with Tina.
I’ve spent a lot of time wondering why being direct makes people so uncomfortable. I think it’s because most people are walking around carrying a heavy suitcase full of things they wish they could say but don’t. When they meet someone like me who just… drops the suitcase and opens it up? It’s jarring.
It’s not about being a “bully” or being “mean.” There is a massive difference between being a jerk and being authentic.
• A jerk says things to hurt people.
• An authentic person says things because they value the truth more than they value a fake, comfortable silence.
Everyone says they love honesty… until honesty shows up without lip gloss on. We live in a world where people swear they want “real,” and “transparent.” But the moment you actually give it to them, suddenly you’re “harsh,” “intimidating,” or my personal favorite, “you could’ve said that nicer.” Translation: You said the truth, but you didn’t whisper it gently enough for my comfort.
I’ve learned over time that some people don’t dislike me because I’m wrong. They dislike me because I’m not easily influenced. I don’t bend myself into a pretzel just to be invited to the table. I don’t nod my head just to keep the peace while my gut is screaming, “Girl, absolutely not.”
There are moments when I think, Wow, Tina, maybe if you just smiled more, agreed more, swallowed that comment, things would be easier. And maybe they would be—for a minute. But then I’d have to live with myself afterward, and that’s the relationship I refuse to ruin.
I’ve watched people shrink themselves in real time. They start sentences with, “I mean, it’s probably just me but…” as if having a thought or a boundary requires a disclaimer. I used to do that too. Then one day I realized: the people who benefit most from you doubting yourself are usually the ones who don’t have your best interest at heart.
So now? I don’t over-explain. I don’t audition for approval. I don’t perform politeness at the expense of my peace. Does that mean everyone likes me? Absolutely not. And honestly, thank God. Because being liked by everyone is not a flex; it’s a red flag. It usually means you’re editing yourself too much.
To my fellow truth-tellers: keep being “difficult.” Keep refusing to be a “yes man.” The world has enough parrots; it needs more people who aren’t afraid to break the silence. I’ll keep saying exactly what I want, when I want. It might mean fewer invitations to boring parties, but it also means my life is 100% drama-free.
How about you? Have you ever gotten in “trouble” for being a little too honest? I’d love to hear your stories in the comments—don’t sugarcoat them!