It’s Still Okay To Dislike People... But Here's What I've Learned

A few years ago, I wrote that it’s okay to dislike people and the column resonated more than I expected. Apparently, many of us carry a quiet shame about not liking everyone. But lately I’ve been thinking about the “why.”

Because here’s what I’ve noticed: I don’t actually dislike many people. In fact, I try very hard not to. I assume good intent. I look for common ground. I extend grace. And then every so often I meet someone, and something in me tightens. Not dramatically…just enough.

It’s subtle. A quiet internal contraction. A hesitation that doesn’t have a fully formed sentence attached to it. A red flag. What’s really interesting here, though, is that this reaction often arrives before rational thought has a chance to weigh in.

Logically, the person may be impressive. Accomplished. Well-liked. Perfectly pleasant on paper. And yet, something in me says oh hell no.

For years, like most women, I questioned that response. Was I being unfair? Judgmental? Closed-minded? But here’s what science tells us: what we call “gut instinct” isn’t irrational, it’s pre-rational.

Our brains are constantly scanning for patterns. Tone that doesn’t match words. Micro-expressions that flicker for half a second. Energy shifts. Status plays. Inconsistencies. Our nervous system processes all of it long before our conscious mind catches up.

Now, that doesn’t mean every instinct is truth. Sometimes what tightens is old wiring. An echo from another relationship. A familiar dynamic we’ve outgrown but still recognize. Sometimes it’s envy in disguise. Or projection. Or our own unfinished business.

Which is why the more interesting question isn’t why don’t I like them? It’s what is my system responding to? And that question changes everything.

There’s a difference between discernment and defensiveness, intuition and insecurity, incompatibility and threat. Not every “no” means danger. Sometimes it simply means misalignment…something we don’t talk about enough.

Two people can both be intelligent, capable, kind and still not be a fit energetically, philosophically, temperamentally. We act as though that’s a moral failure.

It isn’t a moral failure. It’s actually data!

In a culture that prizes inclusion, positivity, and relentless networking, admitting you don’t like someone feels almost subversive. We’re taught to override discomfort. Smile. Be agreeable. Keep the door open. But repeatedly overriding your own nervous system in the name of politeness has a cost. It erodes self-trust.

And self-trust is not something I’m willing to spend cheaply anymore.

The evolution of my original stance isn’t that it’s okay to dislike people. It’s this: It’s okay to trust your reaction... and even more powerful to examine it.

When I feel that quiet tightening now, I don’t immediately act on it. I get curious. Is this wisdom? Is this history? Is this ego? Is this simply difference?

Sometimes the answer is humbling. Sometimes it’s clarifying. Occasionally, it’s protective. But almost always, it’s instructive.

We like to believe we are purely rational beings making careful, measured decisions about who belongs in our orbit. But we aren’t.

We are layered. Patterned. Wired. And wonderfully imperfect.

Disliking someone doesn’t make you unkind. Blindly following it might. Blindly suppressing it might too. Maturity lives somewhere in the middle.

And perhaps that’s the real upgrade...not just giving ourselves permission to dislike, but learning how to listen to what that dislike is really telling us.

Come on... we don’t have to like everyone.

But we should never betray ourselves to prove that we do!