The optimism I found through cynicism.

For the past few months, I’ve had a great deal of stress building up inside me. Not from one thing, but from many — all with one thing in common: I couldn’t escape them. I had to face them every single day.

As a people pleaser, I hate conflict. I’ve always tried to pull the strings behind the scenes to make sure everything just… works. I’m usually fine with taking the hits if it means the bigger picture comes out looking peaceful. But what I had to finally admit to myself last week is this: some problems are simply too far outside my control. And no one — no one — is handing out awards for suffering while trying to fix things that aren’t mine to fix.

That realization went hand in hand with something I never expected to embrace: cynicism.

Take the guy in my lab, the one I mentor. For months, he’s been draining me. Massive ego, constant projection of his own inner chaos, unpredictable outbursts — and I kept trying to navigate it all diplomatically. But the moment I fully accepted that he’s just always going to be a piece of work, it was like a weight dropped off my shoulders.

I’m not here to fix the fundamental nature of anyone. Especially not someone who is not even self-aware to recognize how burdensome he is. My job is to mentor. That’s it. I don’t have to hold his hand, absorb his attitude, or perform emotional olympics to make his experience better at the expense of my own.

Last week, for the first time all summer, I felt my face muscles stay relaxed and not tense up when he walked into the lab. That’s when I realized how deep the tension had been.

Same thing with a close friend of mine. For years, we’ve had this back-and-forth, flirt-but-never-address it type of dynamic. I kept telling myself it wasn’t that deep — brushing off moments that, if anyone else were watching, would seem romantic. Deep down, I always left the door ajar, like maybe something could or should happen between us one day?

But the truth is, I was only keeping that door open because I felt like I owed it to him. Like if I was complicit in the flirting, I had to be emotionally accountable for it.

I don’t.

He’s seeing someone now. And it seems like he really likes her. Our flirting hasn’t stopped — it’s just normalized at this point. Which is its own topic of discussion separate from this… But I think I have stopped feeling anything strong from it. I can feel myself starting to detach. And it’s felt so freeing.

Adopting a cynical lens toward that dynamic has helped me realize something I’ve always avoided asking: If we were actually in a relationship, would it even work?
Hard no. We’re fundamentally different in ways that would have sunk the ship before it ever left the dock.

Cynicism has become my unlikely pathway to emotional freedom.

It’s helped me create boundaries. It’s made it easier to stop over-investing in things I can’t control. And it’s giving me a healthier way to killing my lifelong people-pleasing tendencies.