I’ve always believed that kindness is contagious. That if I go out of my way to be soft, caring, and understanding, people would naturally respond with the same energy. But somewhere along the way, I learned the harshest truth of all — kindness, when given too freely, becomes a weapon people use against you.
I’ve tried to be that person — the one who listens without judgment, who gives without expecting anything in return, who forgives even when it hurts. And every time, it’s the same story. They see my heart, they see my patience, and they think it’s weakness. They think I’ll take anything, swallow every insult, every selfish act, and still smile like nothing ever happened.
Do you know what happens when you constantly give people your softest side, and they keep tearing it apart? You don’t stay soft. You don’t stay the same. Slowly, that warmth inside you starts to freeze. And before you even realize it, you’re not the person you used to be. You’re the cold one now. The rude one. The “psycho” who doesn’t care anymore.
I hate that they made me this way. That I can’t trust easily, that I snap when someone tries to test my patience. They call it attitude, they call it ego. No — it’s just self-defense. It’s what’s left of me after being drained by people who mistook my kindness for a doormat.
Sometimes, I miss the old me. The me who believed people were good by default. But that version of me doesn’t exist anymore. It died the day I realized that being too nice doesn’t make you loved — it makes you easy to use.
And maybe this version of me, the one they call rude, heartless, or psycho, is just me finally protecting myself.
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