On being nice

64 Notes

My daughter is a smart girl. I was a little spring-in-my-steppy one day when I read a post from @muchty that said him and @davegorum agreed that I am the nicest twitterer of all. Now hey, I am the first to point in other directions when someone says stuff like that … but that day … it meant a lot and it couldn’t have come from two nicer people so I took it gladly.

My daughter asked why I was so happy and I told her the above. She said “nicest twitterer? Is being the nicest a good thing?” and I stopped cold because she twigged on something I had been wrestling with for a bit in this space… let alone in life. Being nice isn’t always all that it’s cracked up to be especially at times when people don’t return the favour.

Yes. I am genuinely nice. Yes. I am glad that this is felt by other people. But the downside of all this nice polite Canadianess is that I also have a hard time speaking up when someone treats me poorly in return.

I swallowed a pretty gigantic fuck you that needed saying today and the end result is that I now have a whopper of a headache over the whole thing. So yeah. Being nice is pretty fucking awesome sometimes.

Yup. This is what I meant when I wrote this: