You like wooden boats and flaky salt and having dahlias at your desk. Sometimes you tell yourself mean things when you run. You feel calmer when you go outside at lunchtime. If you don't sleep well one night, you usually do the next. Having a whole mystery series to read makes you feel safe. You always thought you weren't tough, but you are. You really do believe failure goes on some sort of permanent record. You can get weirdly absorbed in cleaning out a drawer. You try so hard to be good at things you don't actually want to do. You never ask yourself if maybe you should just stop doing them.~Kristi Coulter (From Exit Interview--The Life and Death of My Ambitious Career)

My husband has more than once accused me of being "too nice." Guilty as charged. A lot of the time, I just want people to like me. People pleasing. Yes sir, that's me. I feel guilty if I say no to others. I feel responsible for others' emotions. I want things to work out. I believe it's up to me. I don't practice this upside-down behavior all the time, but frequently enough so that I'm capsized in a world that demands so much attention. I'm working on it. But I'm not trying to be meaner or increase callousness. No, not that. That's even worse. 

I finished a book by Kristi Coulter last week. I opened this post with her quote. She worked at Amazon for twelve years. She was competent, intelligent, creative and productive. And nice. Yet throughout her career, she experienced many of the same feelings that I have. She often ignored what was important to her, denied that her preferences and thoughts and talents really counted. She gave so much attention to others that she suppressed herself. The pain of diluting who she was finally grabbed her attention. She decided to became kinder to herself. But is there really a difference between niceness and kindness?

Dr. Nicole Lepera, author of How To Be The Love You Seek, cites these key differences between being nice and being kind:

Nice:

Automatically say "yes" to everything.

Betray myself to please others.

I think everyone needs to like me.

I think other people are my responsibility.

I believe guilt means I'm wrong.

I drop everything for everyone.

I believe it's a badge of honor to put everyone first.

Kind:

I pause and see if I have space.

I honor my limits and boundaries.

I know I can't please everyone.

I know I am my own responsibility.

I know it is okay to feel guilty.

I practice self-care.

I know if I put everyone else first I'll be resentful.

Dr. Lepera says, "Adults are capable of being disappointed, so I can take care of me. I don't need to be everything to everyone."

Perhaps we right ourselves and others a bit more when we seek kindness over niceness. May God's gracious hand rest upon us to help us distinguish the difference.