If They Don't Like You, F*ck Them: A Survival Guide for Your Sanity
There's this thing nobody tells you about becoming an adult: some people are just going to hate you for absolutely no reason. And the worst part? You're supposed to just... deal with it. Smile through it. Be the bigger person. But here's what I've learned at twenty-eight, after years of trying to win over people who were never going to like me anyway—sometimes the most radical act of self-preservation is simply not giving a fuck.
I know what you're thinking. "Fuck them" sounds easy, right? Like some empowering Instagram caption you'd see under a sunset photo. But actually implementing that philosophy when your partner's best friend is actively trying to sabotage your relationship, or when your future mother-in-law makes it crystal clear you're not good enough for her precious child—that's a different story entirely. It's not about setting boundaries, though God knows those are important too. This is about something deeper: protecting your peace at all costs, even when it feels impossible.
The truth is, sending someone who's wronged you straight to hell—mentally, emotionally, cutting them out of your psychological real estate—is genuinely difficult. I know people who can't even set basic boundaries with others, let alone master the art of strategic indifference. But this isn't really about boundaries in the traditional sense. It's about mental peace. It's about recognizing when you're fighting a war that was rigged against you from the start, and having the self-respect to walk away from the battlefield entirely.
Let me paint you a picture. You know those in-laws who make it abundantly clear you're not their first choice? The ones who somehow always bring up your partner's ex at family dinners, or who conveniently forget to include you in group photos? Or that coworker who treats you like a threat instead of a colleague, undermining you in meetings and taking credit for your ideas? What about your boyfriend's friends who seem to have made it their personal mission to break you two up, constantly suggesting he could "do better" or reminiscing about how great things were before you came along?
These situations exist completely outside your control. You didn't ask for the animosity. You didn't earn it. It just... is. And here's the thing that took me years to accept: some battles simply aren't worth fighting. Some wars where the only winning move is not to play.
That's where the "fuck them" philosophy comes in. But it's not about being cruel or petty—it's about emotional self-defense. It's about reaching a place where their opinion of you genuinely doesn't penetrate your sense of self. It's about cultivating such deep satisfaction in who you are that the day they finally realize you truly don't care becomes its own quiet victory. Not because you're keeping score, but because you've freed yourself from their judgment.
I need to be clear about something, though: not everyone can do this. And that's okay. This isn't some overnight transformation you achieve after reading a self-help book or watching a TikTok therapist. It's a mental exercise that requires genuine work and, honestly, a solid foundation of self-love. You can't fake your way into not caring. You have to build up your sense of self until external validation—or the lack of it—simply doesn't shake you anymore.
Here's what I've noticed: when someone doesn't like you, even if there's absolutely no rational reason for it, people will manufacture reasons to validate their feelings. They'll nitpick. They'll misinterpret. They'll find fault where none exists because humans are incredibly skilled at post-rationalizing their emotions. Your laugh is too loud. You're too quiet. You're too ambitious. You're not driven enough. You're too this, not enough that. The criticism is infinite and contradictory because it was never really about you in the first place.
And this is the crucial part—this is where the real work happens—you have to understand that their made-up reasons don't have to land. You're not perfect. Nobody is. And accepting that not everyone is going to like you isn't just realistic; it's mathematically inevitable. Think about it: you exist in the world with billions of other people, each carrying their own baggage, insecurities, and irrational preferences. Some of them are just not going to vibe with you, and that's fine. Your life continues exactly the same whether they're sending bad energy your way or not.
There's this guy, Jefferson Fisher, who says something brilliant: treat them as if they like you. And I've tried this, several times actually, in situations where I couldn't avoid the person. It's a psychological power move that's surprisingly effective. Because here's the thing—they don't get to control your emotions or your reactions. Only you do. When you walk into a room and your partner's judgmental friend is there, you can either let their energy dictate your mood, or you can act as if you're all good friends catching up. Smile. Be warm. Refuse to play the game they've set up where you're supposed to feel small and uncomfortable.
It's not about being fake. It's about reclaiming your power in situations designed to make you feel powerless. It's about not giving them the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. Because the truth is, people who dislike you without cause are often waiting for you to confirm whatever negative narrative they've constructed. They want you to be defensive, insecure, or hostile so they can point and say, "See? I was right about them all along."
But what happens when you deny them that confirmation? When you show up authentically yourself, unshaken by their cold shoulder or subtle digs? It throws the whole dynamic off. Suddenly, they're the ones who look unreasonable. They're the ones whose behavior seems disproportionate and strange. And you? You're just living your life, unbothered, focused on what actually matters.
I'm not going to lie and say I've mastered this completely. There are still days when someone's unexplained hostility gets under my skin. Days when I catch myself mentally rehearsing arguments or trying to figure out what I did wrong. But those days are fewer now than they used to be. Because I've started to genuinely internalize something I used to only say: their opinion of me is none of my business.
Your mental health is too precious to sacrifice on the altar of universal approval. Your energy is too valuable to waste trying to win over people who've already decided not to like you. And your peace—your actual, tangible, day-to-day peace—is worth more than forcing relationships that feel like emotional labor.
So yes, if they don't like you, fuck them. Not in a hostile way, not in a way that consumes you with bitterness or revenge fantasies. But in a way that liberates you from the exhausting cycle of seeking approval from people who were never going to give it. In a way that lets you redirect that energy toward people who actually appreciate you, toward goals that actually fulfill you, toward a life that actually reflects who you are rather than who others think you should be.
This is the work of your twenties, really. Learning to distinguish between constructive criticism from people who care about you and baseless negativity from people who are working through their own issues. Learning that you can be kind, professional, and civil with someone without needing them to validate your existence. Learning that the satisfaction of living well, of being genuinely happy despite their disapproval, is worth infinitely more than finally winning them over would ever be.
At the end of the day, their negative energy says everything about them and nothing about you. Your job isn't to fix their perception or change their mind. Your job is to protect your peace, nurture your self-worth, and keep building a life you're proud of. Everything else is just noise. And noise, as we all know, is meant to be tuned out.
So fuck them. Not because they deserve your anger, but because you deserve your freedom.

