#151 – Why does it take courage to be disliked?

When a reader of this email series sent me the title of a book he's reading: The courage to be disliked, by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga, flashes of myself speaking with prospective clients these past few years came to my mind. Also of me in job interviews, with colleagues, with new friends I've made in online communities.

Something in my voice, the way I carried myself, wasn't authentic. I was faking. Looking back, I was trying too hard.

When I was around 11, I observed that women in movies always looked perfect. Even when brushing teeth or peeling potatoes, their back was straight, stomach flat, face never scrunched.

For a while, I tried to be perfect even when no one was watching. It was exhausting, so I dropped it, thinking, "whatcha gonna do, you're just a mortal human being."

Recalling recent interactions, I see the 11-year-old who believed some people are just perfect even when alone.

By trying to embody a pre-made self-image, I was disembodying my True Self.

Why did I do it? I believed people would trust me more if I presented myself a certain way. Trust or like?

In 2018, during my tenure at the communication consulting firm in New York, I met a client at 30 Rockefeller Plaza to discuss our Female Leadership programs. When I mentioned the courage to be disliked, the HR executive – a woman – said, flashing a coy smile and tilting her head, "But no one will want to work with you if they don't like you, no?"

That's the key. We confound being liked with being trusted. We blackmail ourselves, believing being liked is necessary to be effective.

I'm not saying be rude or impossible to work with.

But we need to be disliked by some people to do what we believe is right. My idea of right won't be everyone's idea of right.

What do I gain? I can be myself fully and follow my instincts. I let go of manipulation and become present. Their liking or not liking me doesn't change me.

Or is an iguana less green or less herself, just because you don't like it?

What would change if you let go of the need to be liked?

Love,

Carolina