I’m done laughing it off

Have you ever met people who seem to exist just to ruin your peace?

You’re minding your own business, not asking for attention, and suddenly someone appears, with their sharp tongue and dull mind, and manages to spoil your whole day.

It used to happen so often that I learned to look away, to not let it touch me. But lately, I’ve lost that tolerance. I find myself getting angry, frustrated, unable to shake off that sting that lingers long after their words are gone.

I’ve noticed this breed of people who walk around throwing insults like confetti, all in the name of being “witty,” “honest,” or “bold.” But what really drives them? Is it insecurity? Unhappiness? Or just a deep need to feel taller by stepping on someone else’s peace?

People say, ignore and move on. Some say, give it back. But I don’t find peace in either. When I ignore, I feel like I let them win, like I’ve given permission for them to hurt someone else next. But when I react, I feel like I’ve betrayed myself, slipping down to their level. It’s a tug-of-war between dignity and defense.

Why do we allow people so much access to our appearance, our choices, our lives? Why do we let their careless words travel so deep?

Just the other day, someone made a snide comment about a friend of mine who hasn’t been able to find a job for a while. They said, “She quits every few months, can’t she stick to one?” But none of them knew how much she’d gone through in her last role, how much courage it took just to leave, or how heavy the waiting can feel when you’re searching for stability.

It makes me wonder, why do people assume everyone owes them an explanation? Why do they feel entitled to an opinion about someone else’s struggle, someone else’s survival?

You can ignore once, maybe twice, but for how long can you keep walking away from this kind of cruelty before it breaks something inside you?

It breaks me to be a version of myself I don’t want to be.

Maybe silence isn’t always noble. Maybe sometimes, calling it out is the kindest thing you can do, not just for yourself, but for everyone else who’s quietly hurting under someone’s careless “joke.”

Yes, of course, we do have to take some responsibility for how we receive others’ words, when to let them in and when to let them go. But there’s a limit. You can only “not care” for so long before it starts to chip away at your sense of self. Eventually, you begin to flinch at the thought of certain people, expecting them to say something that will sting. That’s not weakness; it’s a normal psychological response to repeated invalidation. What stings, stays, sometimes far longer than we want it to.

It’s also deeply contextual. There are days when you can laugh off a comment, and days when the same words hit like a bruise.

Something as “harmless” as “You’ve put on some weight” or “That’s not for women to do” can land differently depending on what someone’s already carrying inside. Words are never neutral; their impact depends not just on what’s said, but who says it and how it’s received.

And then there’s that one person, the friend of a close friend, who barely knows you but still takes the liberty to comment on your life. Their words often reveal more about their own discomfort than about you. Psychology calls it projection; they throw out what they can’t bear to see in themselves.
You can tell when a joke comes from affection, and when it comes from the need to assert power or just a simple need to insult someone. That’s where the real harm lies, not in humor, but in intention.

So I’ve tried being silent. Being ignorant. But for how long?'

Because it’s not about winning an argument. It’s about drawing a line and saying, you don’t get to talk to me like that.

Maybe that’s where the buck stops.