Being Nice

I received a phone call last night. Anyone who knows me knows that even if you call me at 3:17 a.m., I usually am pretty good about clearing my throat enough to sound like a human. You know, I want to be nice. I want the call to be pleasant, even if what we are discussing isn't. Well, this particular call came just after a very long day, at about 9:15 p.m., and I was not nice.

It started off badly, because I recognized the number that popped up on the phone. I sighed through an inaudible, "Dang it," and really didn't want to answer. It was a call from a person who strikes me as one of the most insecure and passive aggressive people I've ever met. When I saw her number, I already knew that it would be an event, because every time I have engaged with this person, I have ended up completely drained of energy.

So, because I am a "nice" person, I answered, praying that God would transform us both so we could speak to each other without stress. What's funny is that the person who called takes her role in my play of being nice seriously. Her voice dripped with pure honey as she detailed what she needed from me. No genuine greeting. Just her requests that she spent all day writing down so she wouldn't get nervous and forget (She told me she did this...yikes!) She was only asking for something I had already given above and beyond.

My not-yet-a-friend laid into me with her requests and waited for my response. During the thick, unbearable pause, I breathed deeply. I prayed. I moved around in a not so comfortable chair, trying to gain some wisdom from the fibers of the pink fabric covering it. I remembered some techniques of centering prayer, but knew I didn't have time to do it...and suddenly, a still small voice said, "Kelle. You don't have to be nice."

Let me tell you that I didn't curse her, nor did I verbally lay her out as only a Black woman can do. I told her that she was attempting to get something out of me that I didn't owe. It wasn't about money, and I told her as much. I told her that I was not going to be available for fulfill her deep desire to remain present in my life when her season was over.

Something grew in me in those moments. I realized that I don't have to be nice, and that if being nice is my only goal, I was leaving myself open to be taken advantage of over and over again. I realized that they many times I had prided myself in being nice, I wasn't fully present or honest. It was a masquerade, my attempt to be what everyone supposes a Christian, woman minister is. Nice is about ego, about maintaining "the look" with no depth. However, I have to be authentic. This is what each of us are called to be--always.

Well, I wasn't nice, but I was kind. I was assertive and fair. We resolved the issue, by collaborating instead of back off and giving parts of ourselves we didn't want to give.

"Nice" is no aspiration. Be real. Be you.