Truth #12: Not Everyone Needs to Like You

And if you're doing it right, they shouldn't.

Most women have exerted a Doug/Bill/Mike’s lifetime worth of “smoothing over” energy in a single, fiery night. And we did so wearing too-little-clothing in 12 degrees.

To avoid conflict and keep things chugging along, women sacrifice for the greater good. We colour inside the lines, mirror popular vote, and handout birthday party invites with bipartisan strategy. We tamper down and tend to the needs of the harshest person in the room. 

We’ve been taught that being well-liked is necessary. And that being liked by the greatest number of people makes our lives easier—which is true until it isn’t.

As we step deeper into our adulthood, we may arrive at a conflicting truth: being liked can be restrictive.

By focusing too much on others, we avoid the shit-talk worthy risks that buy our freedom. 

So, herein lies an important question: if you’re a woman trying to do anything in the world and an incel doesn’t openly wish ill on you, are you really putting yourself out there?

While the aim isn’t to attract detractors, it is to avoid catering to others. It is to stop being less for another man’s comfort. To no longer laugh at the unfunny. And to not compliment someone just because they’re expecting it (plus, that velvet bolero jacket does not need positive reinforcement).

There’s a natural pull toward people who are shamelessly themselves.

People that don’t chameleon feel sturdy and decisive. That said, it’s totally normal to have parts of yourself heighten around certain people. It’s expected that one person may stimulate one part of you, while another may energize another piece.

Some amount of censorship and role playing is required for grandparent relationships and gainful employment. 

Note: At work, I haven’t always been myself.

A former boss told me to be more assertive and “peacock” at a conference (like the real me, who owns more than one boa, needs to be reminded…).

Most cringey of all: I, Grace McClure, have been mistakenly called “nice”.

Being nice is fine, but when “nice” is the default adjective, something’s amiss. For me, being called “nice” shows that I haven’t been my true self because “nice” is not one of my top 14 descriptors (nor do I want it to be).

Tapping into a truer voice, instead of being the star of our own 2000’s era multiple personality disorder thriller movie (e.g. “Identity” or “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”) is a forgotten key.

Being more authentic with ourselves and others is where it all begins. It’s how the right people and opportunities find us. It’s how we build our own unique brand. 

When we’re preoccupied with being likeable and catering to others, we’re not plugged into our full potential. In other words, when we’re toning it down or hamming it up, we’re only executing who we are part-time.

Playing it safe and shaving down personality for our workplace/ friend group/ big booty enthusiasts club, removes substance from the equation. It eliminates any chance of us bringing that extra je ne sais quoi to the table.

We didn’t beat the odds and turn one sweaty romp between our parents into living, breathing, sniffling life to be agreeable (and forgettable). 

Note: As Dana Rocket, owner/spin instructor/cult leader of RocketCycle says, “Don’t be a piece of furniture in the room! Be the whole damn room!”.

So, if you don’t know what your opinion is, are slinking in corners, or people around you are calling you “nice”, then hunny Houston, we have a problem. 

And you’re not alone. 

Being yourself is vulnerable and will involve upheaval. Many of the roles we find ourselves in weren't erected from authenticity. Moreover, some of these jobs and dynamics will not reward individuality.

Being your true self—unless you’re a basic bitch who loves her 9-5, top 40, Dad jokes, Hallmark movies, and playing “nice”—means occasionally going against the grain and being less conventionally likeable.

Not everyone will understand our work, funny, projects, interest in taxidermy, or willingness to throw it all away and start over—and that’s a good thing. It means you’re actually doing something.

If stepping more into you feels scary, fear not. Let’s not forget that:

People eat mattresses.

More than a dozen people attend Nickelback concerts.

Someone is dying Trump’s hair with a straight face.

Comicon geeks wear rainbow wigs in sold out convention centers.

There’s a cult that worships Robin Williams.

And groups of mushroom foragers (with mushroom haircuts) gather in damp forests across this great nation! 

Note: My husband, Kevin, has a theory that every *committed* farmer’s market dealer looks like their bounty. For example, mushroom foragers look like literal mushrooms. Cheese people somehow resemble the hunks of Limburger they’re slinging. Fishmongers look, well, fishy.

Once you see it, you can’t unsee it. These people have gone all-in enough to become their fruits.

Obscure, underground “anythings” have found their place. There’s more room than ever for a more authentic and unlikeable you in the new wild west.  

And remember: regardless of how likeable we try to be—we’ll piss people off anyways. So, if you haven’t received hate mail by a male colleague, stranger, or family member in the last 30-days, it may be time to check in on your shameless.