Everyone Should Have a Little "Spine": E

Everyone Should Have a Little "Spine": Excessive Kindness Erodes Your Dignity

 

It's often said that "a gentle temper is a virtue," but sooner or later we learn that an overly compliant "good nature" can sometimes become a weapon that harms us. The "spine"  we're talking about here isn't unreasonable outbursts or flying off the handle over trivial things. Instead, it's the resolve to defend our personal boundaries—a clear signal to others that "I can be kind, but don't overstep."

 

My friend Lily is a classic people-pleaser; she's barely had a cross word with anyone since childhood. At work, when colleagues dumped their own tasks on her, she'd swallow her frustration to keep the peace and take them on without complaint. In her personal life, if friends bailed on plans they'd invited her to at the last minute, she'd brush it off to avoid awkwardness, always saying, "No worries, let's reschedule." Even when a shopkeeper shortchanged her, she'd hesitate to go back and ask for the difference, just telling herself, "It's not a big deal, let it go."

 

But her accommodating nature didn't earn her the same kindness in return. Colleagues soon started treating her like free labor, tossing even small tasks—copying documents, ordering takeout—her way without a second thought. Friends, figuring she "never gets mad," canceled on her more and more often, sometimes without even an explanation afterward. The shopkeeper, noticing how easygoing she was, didn't think twice about packing half as much fruit for her the next time.

 

Once, Lily pulled an all-nighter to finish a report for a colleague. But the next day, she walked in to hear that colleague taking credit for it in front of their boss, saying, "This report was a piece of cake—I just touched it up a bit." That day, Lily finally snapped. In front of everyone, she said, "I built the entire framework and compiled all the data for this report. You only changed two punctuation marks—how is that 'touching it up'?" The colleague froze, and everyone around them paused what they were doing. It was the first time Lily had stood her ground publicly, but from that day on, her colleagues never dared dump their work on her again, and they spoke to her with far more respect.

 

Later, Lily told me, "I used to be terrified of 'making a scene' and offending people. But after swallowing so much, I realized the softer you are, the less people take you seriously. Your sacrifices just become 'business as usual' to them; every time you back down, they just push a little further."

 

Too many people in this world mix up "excessive kindness" with "no backbone," and "inability to say no" with "easy to walk over." It's like if you keep sharing the candies on your desk with others—at first, they'll thank you, but eventually, they'll just help themselves. Some might even complain, "Why are you being so cheap?" when you finally say no. They forget those candies were yours to begin with; giving them away is a kindness, not an obligation.

 

People who are overly kind spend so much time looking out for others that they forget to look out for themselves. They see "putting their own needs last" as "being team player," and "letting go of what they want" as "being mature." But more often than not, all they get in return is being overlooked and undervalued. They're like a blade of grass that bends over to stay out of everyone's way—over and over, until no one notices if it's stepped on, or if it can ever stand straight again.

 

In reality, standing your ground doesn't make you unkind—it means learning to respect yourself. If someone borrows money from you and drags their feet on paying it back, you don't have to tiptoe around the topic. Just say, "I need that money back soon—I've got my own expenses to cover." If someone keeps bringing up topics you're uncomfortable with, you don't have to pretend to be interested. Just say, "I'd rather not talk about this—let's switch to something else." These small acts of "spine" aren't about fighting with people; they're about defining where your limits are. They let others know you have principles, and you won't be treated carelessly.

 "A sense of boundaries is the mark of mature affection. It means honoring the space between people—the kind of space that respects someone as their own person." And that "spine" we're talking about is what guards those boundaries. It lets you be kind without losing your self-respect, and tolerant without giving up what matters to you.

 

So stop fearing that standing up for yourself will push people away, and stop confusing "never speaking up" with "having a good personality." Your kindness is valuable—it deserves to be appreciated. Your dignity matters—it shouldn't be traded for approval. A little spine goes a long way: it helps others see you clearly, and respect you truly. After all, people who care about you won't leave just because you set reasonable limits. And anyone who does leave? They were never worth you shrinking yourself for.