They Don’t Like You, They Don’t Dislike You

They don’t like you.
They don’t even really dislike you.

They’re scared of you — because you’re different.

You move different. You think different. You don’t wait for green lights. You just go.

It’s not personal. Even though yeah, sometimes it feels personal.

You speak up when most stay quiet. You start before things are “ready.” You skip the asking and go straight to doing.

You move. While they’re still thinking.

Most people carry quiet dreams. Half-finished ideas. Someday plans.

Then you show up.
Not waiting.
Not asking.
Just moving.

Messy. Not perfect. Sometimes shaky. But real.

Not because you want to show off. But because you show what’s possible. And once they see it, they can’t pretend anymore.

So they go quiet. Change the subject. Not because they want you to fail — but because you remind them of the stillness in their own life.

You’re not the problem.
You’re just proof.

Proof makes people itchy. It shows excuses for what they are.

Nobody feels ready. Permission never comes.

So you stopped waiting. You started. Messy. Clumsy. But moving anyway.

It’s easier to say “you’ve changed” than admit they haven’t.

You’re not here to be liked. You’re here to build what only you can build. To live honest — even if no one claps.

And someone is watching. Quietly. Not to judge, but to see if maybe they can too.

Different isn’t wrong. It’s the only thing that changes anything.

So no — they don’t dislike you. They just haven’t found their way yet.

And that’s fine. You have.
Keep walking.