They didn’t like this version of me, and that’s how I knew it was necessary. This version stopped explaining. Stopped softening. Stopped making herself smaller to be more digestible. And that made people uncomfortable.
This version didn’t raise her voice or change her personality overnight. She simply withdrew the extra effort. The emotional labor. The benefit of the doubt that used to cushion everything. She let her boundaries speak instead of her empathy doing all the work.
People were fine with me when I was accommodating. When I overextended. When I filled in gaps and smoothed over friction so no one else had to feel it. They liked that version. She was predictable. Accessible. Easy to lean on.
They didn’t like this version because she stopped volunteering context. She didn’t chase understanding or reassurance. She didn’t repackage her truth to make it land gently. She let decisions stand without a supporting paragraph.
This version didn’t argue back. She didn’t defend herself. She didn’t try to be liked through clarity. She accepted that being respected and being palatable don’t always coexist.
They didn’t like this version because it removed their leverage. Less access meant fewer expectations. Fewer explanations meant fewer openings to negotiate. Silence changed the dynamic without a single confrontation.
And here’s the part I’m at peace with. I didn’t create this version to be liked. I created her to be aligned. To stop abandoning herself quietly just to keep things smooth for everyone else.
They didn’t like this version. I did.
Final Thought: Not Being Liked Is Sometimes the Upgrade
Alignment costs approval. It’s worth it.
Disclaimer
This isn’t bitterness or a personality shift. It’s boundaries.
They didn’t like this version because it no longer centered their comfort.
No apologies.
No reverting.
This version stays.
