My co-worker complained about a text conversation with one of her students. Her student said that she need to see my co-worker and she needed it now. As a lecturer, I tend to see students as human, with civilized manner. But once or twice, I hear this kind of story, when you cannot help but to question how their parents raised these people.
I can say that I'm glad I'm not a very nice person. I have a very unfriendly face, especially when I say nothing and just stare blankly into the empty space. You can only imagine how I look like when I'm upset or angry. I also never consider myself as a nice person. I don't smile often, tend to hold bitter grudges, and can be very cruel and vindictive to people I don't like.
But I never lie about it, about how I'm not nice. I never pretend to be nice, or polite, or proper, with anyone. I say things I mean, and mean everything I say. Even at work. Even when it can caused me disadvantages in my career. I cannot lie because it hurts me for to lie, literally, and metaphorically.
So when someone used to say, "You're so nice," I said to him, "No, I'm not." He never believed me before, but I think he believes me now, because he cut all ties with me and never return any of my effort to connect with him. I feel kind of sorry for him, disappointing him like that, ruined the idea of a very nice person inside his head, only to find something entirely different.
Not necessarily bad, but different. I may not be very nice, but I can be decent enough, well, when I needed to be.
Picture was borrowed from here.