The Plight Of The Chronically Nice Person


Why won’t you reciprocate? Sometimes I get just a little bit tired of being nice to everyone all the time. Of being all smiles and laughter and obnoxious sunshine. Some days, I’m just too nice I feel like a freaking unicorn.

I tire of my incessant optimism. I grow weary of always being the one who tries to hold things together and fix you, fix everyone who crosses my path.

My deep empathy cripples me. Because I can feel your pain, your joys and sorrow. And no matter how hard I try to shun this involuntary connection, I can’t ever resist offering to help.

If I were a cartoon character, my catch-phrase would undoubtedly be, “Are you okay?”

I don’t mean to sound like a creep when I say that all I inherently want to do is to help, to hold, to love, to heal you and everyone around me. Because I have been down that road before and I don’t want you to traverse that empty path on your own the way I did.

I want you to understand that you are not alone. I hope to be a glimmer of light in your darkness to show you that yes, someone (as random as they may be) actually does care about what you think, what you feel, and not everyone is a total A-hole. No, you are not stupid for feeling the way you do and together, we can probably fix this.

Speak, I will listen. Cry, my voice will crack as I press advice into your palm – advice backed-up by my own heart-aching experiences. Ask of me, I will lend a hand.
I have this insatiable odd yearning to comfort and console, the way other people crave to be comforted and consoled. I do for you what I wish others would do for me if I were in your place.

Is there such a thing as being too altruistic?

Sometimes, and by sometimes, I mean very often, I end up putting others’ needs above my own. I thrive on being able to make someone smile, to make a difference, no matter how small. But at the end of the day, I am alone.

I am afraid. Afraid that I’ll let my guard down one day, and then you’ll see me for who I truly am. That I’m hurting inside, that I am the physical embodiment of “unrequited” and “loving too much”. Though constantly surrounded by people, I ache and I am lonely. Resentment stirs in my chest and I feel a growing mixture of anger and guilt eating at me from within. Anger for unrequited love and unreciprocated kindness. Guilt for all this pent up anger.

I’m not asking you to worship the ground I walk on. I’m not asking you to become my therapist – sometimes I just want you to be there. Be there for me every once in a while. Catch me when I’m about to crumble because I’m only human and as selfless as I try to be 90% of the time, I too need someone to lean on. As nice as I am, I do have my limits too.

Don’t make me ask or beg. Read me like I read you. Look for the signs, I promise you, they are there. Even when I try to my hardest not to manifest them. You will catch them if you only look hard enough. They are in my occasional too-tight smile, the slight slouch of my shoulders when I think no one’s watching, in my tired eyes and longing sighs and overly excited tones – a fervent attempt to conceal my melancholy.

I want you to drag my hurt and secrets out from my innards, talk to me, erase them and make me feel whole again. Make me understand that I am not alone.

But if that’s all too much to ask, at least indulge me with 3 words. Let me know how it feels to be genuinely asked, “Are you okay?”

Save me from my cheery abyss. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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