🐄 Being the Villain in Someone Else’s Story (and Letting That Be Okay)
There’s a moment that often comes after you start setting boundaries.
It’s subtle at first.
A change in tone.
A little distance where there used to be ease.
A sense that something about you feels… different.
You haven’t become cruel.
You haven’t become cold.
You’ve just stopped bending.
And somehow, that’s enough to make you the villain.
When You Change, the Story Changes Too
People get used to a version of you.
The accommodating one.
The patient one.
The one who smooths things over and keeps the peace.
When you start showing up differently — speaking more clearly, pausing instead of pleasing, choosing yourself — it disrupts that story.
Not because you’re doing something wrong,
but because you’re no longer playing the role they wrote for you.
And when that happens, some people will rewrite the narrative.
Boundaries Can Feel Like Betrayal to Those Who Benefited from Your Silence
This is one of the hardest truths to sit with.
When you’ve been generous with your time, energy, or emotional labour, boundaries can feel shocking to the people who relied on your availability.
Your “no” feels sudden.
Your distance feels personal.
Your clarity feels like rejection.
But boundaries aren’t punishment.
They’re information.
They’re you saying: this is where I end.
Softness with Boundaries Is Often Misread
There’s something especially confusing to others when you stay kind but stop complying.
You’re calm, but firm.
Warm, but unmoving.
Gentle, but no longer accessible in the same way.
This kind of softness doesn’t perform guilt or apology.
And that can be unsettling.
It’s easier for people to label you difficult than to reflect on why your change makes them uncomfortable.
Being Misunderstood Doesn’t Mean You’re Wrong
This is where self-doubt often creeps in.
You replay conversations.
You wonder if you were too much, too sharp, too distant.
You feel the pull to explain, soften, undo.
But discomfort isn’t proof of wrongdoing.
Sometimes it’s simply the sound of an old dynamic breaking.
You’re allowed to outgrow versions of yourself that existed to keep others comfortable.
Letting Go of the Need to Be Liked Is a Quiet Form of Freedom
Being liked can become a kind of currency.
We trade our time, our energy, our boundaries for approval.
We stay agreeable to stay safe.
But the relief that comes from being clear — from being honest, even when it shifts how others see you — is profound.
You don’t need to be understood by everyone.
You don’t need to be palatable to be worthy.
You just need to be aligned with yourself.
You Can Be Someone’s Villain and Still Be a Good Person
This is important.
You can hurt someone’s feelings without harming them.
You can disappoint someone without betraying them.
You can be the “bad guy” in their story and still be acting with integrity.
Other people’s discomfort doesn’t get to be your responsibility forever.
You’re allowed to choose yourself without making yourself the problem.
Soft, Boundaried, and No Longer Available for Misuse
This is where the Nasty Cow energy lives.
Not in cruelty.
Not in bitterness.
But in self-respect.
It’s the quiet decision to stop over-explaining.
To stop performing niceness.
To stop shrinking yourself to fit someone else’s expectations.
You don’t owe everyone the version of you they preferred.
Let Them Tell Their Story
Let them think what they think.
Let them feel what they feel.
You don’t need to rewrite yourself to fit their narrative.
The people meant to know you — to really see you — will recognise the difference between cruelty and clarity.
And the ones who don’t?
They were only ever comfortable with a version of you that cost you something.
Choosing Yourself Is Not the Same as Being the Villain
Sometimes, becoming the villain in someone else’s story is simply the moment you stop abandoning yourself.
It doesn’t mean you’ve hardened.
It means you’ve grounded.
And that choice — to be soft, boundaried, and self-directed — will always be worth it.
Even if not everyone likes it.
Especially then.
🐄✨