For most of my life, I have moved through the world from a posture of pleasantness. My disposition was one in which my determination and desire were for you to always leave an interaction with me feeling good about yourself.

I learned early that a key social currency was politeness, and in each new interaction, payment was due.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I was a willing participant, weaving just the right words to warrant a winsome, warm win between us. The gravitational pull to be liked was immense, surpassed only by my protective manoeuvres to avoid any tension or, deeper still, being exposed in conversation as “not enough.”

Now, the psychologists in my family might suggest the genesis of this behaviour lies in a childhood wound, a pattern young Matt developed from a desperate desire to redirect relational dynamics in a home that felt emotionally unpredictable, a child who, as he grew, developed a hyper-attuned emotional radar alongside an unhealthy attempt to rescue others, including himself, from the feelings of relational fallout.

Or perhaps this instinct toward niceness was shaped by my Christian upbringing, a fruit of my faith formation. Then I wonder how much my infatuation with niceness became overinflated, serving merely as necessary armour I relied on to navigate new social situations.

I am grateful that discovering my strengths brought a welcome awareness that helped me feel more confident in my own skin. Empathy and communication would always lead the way I viewed and showed up in the world, to be aware of the unspoken conversations in the room and to bring words to those experiences. What once felt like a burden began to feel like a way I could add value in life, with kindness.

Wait. Was there a difference between niceness and kindness?

What, for so long, had been part of my identity, my influence inventory and survival strategy, might not actually be the virtue I thought it was.

Where can I reject the temptation to be nice for niceness’ sake?
Where can I exchange the desire for approval, the quiet wondering “Will I still be liked?”, for the far kinder and braver question,

What does kindness demand of me here?”