The Courage to Be Unliked
We are conditioned from the earliest age to believe that being liked is a measure of worth. We are praised for being “easy to get along with,” rewarded for smoothing rough edges, and encouraged to keep the peace—even when it comes at the cost of our own truth.
But likability is often just the art of being unthreatening. It is the practice of softening your voice so it doesn’t carry too far. Of choosing words that make others comfortable rather than words that make them think. Of tucking away your brilliance so it doesn’t outshine the wrong person.
I used to think being liked meant I was doing something right. That it meant I was respected, valued, and safe. But over time, I learned that likability can be a trap—because the version of you that everyone likes might not be the real you. It might be the edited, diluted, permission-granted version.
And here’s the truth: the work I am most proud of—the stands I’ve taken, the truths I’ve spoken, the boundaries I’ve set—has not always made me likable. Sometimes it has made people uncomfortable. Sometimes it has closed doors. Sometimes it has ended relationships I thought would last.
And yet, I have never regretted those moments. Because each time I chose honesty over approval, I traded something fragile for something unshakable.
Being unliked is not the loss we fear—it is the freedom we crave. Freedom from the constant performance of being acceptable. Freedom from bending ourselves into shapes that fit someone else’s comfort zone. Freedom to live with the knowledge that the people who remain are not here because you made yourself small for them—they are here because you showed up as you are.
The courage to be unliked is, at its core, the courage to be yourself without apology.
And that courage will take you further than being liked ever could.
