Being kind vs Being Nice

So, there I was, at a Thai joint with a bunch of people I know—let's call them The Acquaintance bunch. The mood was high, the chattiness was maximum, and the orders were... complex. The majority in the group(not me), of course, were getting the Vegan Fried Rice, because it's 2025 and we're trying to be good to the planet (and probably our colons). But everyone also needed a unique, bespoke spice level. We're talking a Scoville-scale rainbow of requests.

We waited an appropriate(nice way to say we waited for a long time) amount of time, which is to say, long enough for the conversation to move from small talk about the weather to details of the future travel plans.

This is an image of a feast my dear friend cooked for me when I visited her-
Kindness to the core.

 and many eternities later..

The Nervous Waiter arrived, plates in hand, looking like a bomb disposal expert trying to decide which wire to cut. She held up two plates of identical-looking rice and meekly asked, "Who wants this?"

A few polite souls raised their hands, then instantly dropped them, caught in the classic Niceness Loop. Oh, no, after you! Please, you look hungrier! I insist on letting you play "Spicy Roulette"! It was a true gesture of self-sacrifice, and honestly, a terrible strategy for lunch.

You can guess what happened next.

The person who ordered the "I-Dare-You-To-Make-Me-Sweat" rice ended up with the blandest thing ever served—basically a warm, rice-flavoured cloud. And the unfortunate soul who asked for "Zero Spiciness, Please, I Fear Flavour" was handed a plate that could be used to de-ice an aeroplane wing.

The mistakes were manifold: The Waiter's, for not yelling, "WHO GETS THE FIRE RICE?!" and ours, for being so busy perfecting our table-chat that we neglected the basic human duty of inspecting our food for the tiny red (literally) warning flags.

This whole mess, naturally, led to this thought. I have been thinking about this quiet a bit recently.

I've been going around dropping this truth bomb lately: "You gotta be KIND, but you don't have to be NICE all the time." People look at me like I just landed from an alien land.

Hear me out here,

Kindness is the good stuff. It's the core. It’s when you feel genuine empathy—you know, that feeling that makes you think, 'Man, that guy eating the pepper spray rice is having a rough time. I should give him my water.' It’s about being compassionate to others, and crucially, to yourself. That’s the boundary-setting part.

Niceness? That's the costume we wear to social gatherings. It’s what you do to get what you want, or just to avoid a fuss. It's the difference between a dog (kind, unconditional love) and a cat (nice, but only because you're holding tuna). Not intended to hurt cat lovers. 

Being kind allows you to look at the spicy rice and say, "This is not my hill to die on. That rice is a violation of my human rights. I ordered the bland one."

Being nice means you smile, say "It's fine, really," and then spend the next hour crying into your water glass because you didn't want to make a scene.

As women, we're basically issued a Niceness Certificate at birth. It’s the ultimate "good girl" trick, where we're trained to automatically sacrifice our energy, time, and sanity just to keep the social fabric smoothly ironed. I'm sure men have their equivalent—the "Good Son" who smiles and agrees that he loves his job at the family business and definitely doesn't want to move to Bali to become a surfing instructor.

So, let's retire the "Nice" award. It just gets you a mouthful of fire and a feeling of bitter resentment. Be Kind. Be Boundaried. And for the love of Thai food, next time, check the damn spice level.

Our day ended with the Acquaintance bunch moving from the Thai restaurant to the 7-Eleven next door for ice cream. Luckily, the ice cream showed up like a hero to rescue the taste buds (and the intestines) from a fiery inferno for those who were very nice to have the Fire Rice.

Thoughts? Have you ever had your order messed up or eaten something awful because you were too nice to speak up?