A while back, I had an issue with someone I was close to. When a situation came up between us, instead of coming to me like an adult, they attacked my character.
They didn’t ask why I felt a certain way or try to understand my perspective. Instead, they made sure that I was the villain in the situation. It didn’t matter what actually happened—what mattered to them was that they weren’t at fault.
Their reaction still catches me off guard. It felt out of character for them, but in hindsight, I realized that was their true character. They weren’t the person I thought they were. I gave them the benefit of the doubt for so long, choosing to see them through the lens of who I hoped they were rather than see who they actually were.
That realization was hard to accept.
When someone you love or trust reveals a cruel, manipulative, or emotionally immature side, it shakes you. You start to question everything. Was this who they were all along? Were you blind to it? Did they ever truly care about you?
The truth is, I’ve always considered myself a mature person—not just in how I present myself but also in my emotional intelligence. Growing up in circumstances that forced me to develop emotional awareness early on, I navigated difficult situations, read between the lines, and understood emotions that weren’t always clearly communicated. Because of this, I see things from multiple perspectives, approach conflict with empathy, and try to understand where others are coming from before reacting.
Unfortunately, not everyone operates that way.
People with low emotional intelligence struggle to take accountability. Instead of acknowledging their mistakes, they shift the blame onto others. They make themselves the victims and turn the person calling them out into the villains. After all, it’s easier for them to attack someone else’s character than to reflect on their behavior.
This is a defense mechanism—one that allows them to continue believing they’re the “good guy” in every situation. When someone refuses to self-reflect, you can’t reason with them. No amount of logic or explanation will change their perspective; they don’t want to change their perspective. They don’t want to see themselves as flawed, even though we all are.
As the Maya Angelou quote goes, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them.”
Looking back, I see this situation for what it was: a reflection of their emotional immaturity, not my wrongdoing. I wasn’t the villain—I was just the easiest person to blame. Emotionally immature people deflect, lash out, and refuse to engage in self-reflection, which is required for real personal growth.
The hardest part of this whole situation wasn’t even ending itself—it was realizing that I held onto an illusion of who I thought this person was. The person I believed them to be wouldn’t have reacted like that. The person I believed them to be would have willingly talked it out, heard my side, and taken responsibility where it was due.
But that’s not what happened. That’s why, in the end, I had to let go.
I used to think that if I explained my side and worded things correctly, this person would understand. But you can’t force someone to listen or grow, and you definitely can’t force someone to take accountability.
So I let it go. Not because I was okay with what happened but because I refused to keep fighting for someone who decided I was the villain.
I can walk away from this situation knowing that I stayed true to who I am. I handled it with maturity and integrity while they chose to run from accountability. That says everything I need to know.
I’m not the villain; I never was. And I never will be just because someone else needs me to be.
