“You’re such a NICE guy!”

This is a phrase often directed at those of us who feel like outsiders. It echoes through our formative years, from childhood to adulthood, as we witness the changes in ourselves and our surroundings.

Firstly, I want to acknowledge that many who have called me "nice" likely meant it sincerely. I understand that this compliment may not have carried hidden meanings. Those giving it may have truly believed they were praising me.

However, if there were a constant thought bubble above my head revealing my true feelings, I suspect most people would choose nearly every other adjective rather than "nice" to describe me.

I should also mention that I identify as both homosexual and autistic. These facets of my identity made navigating a predominantly heteronormative and neurotypical society quite challenging during my formative years. Nevertheless, I've been able to extract valuable insights from this world and adapt them to my own experiences.

During my school years, I was often labeled a "nice guy" for several reasons:

• I embraced my nerdy interests.
• I maintained a clean vocabulary.
• I had a non-threatening demeanor.
• I avoided causing disruptions in class.
• I exhibited naivety.
• I was easily misled.
• I lacked athletic prowess.
• I wasn't actively seeking romantic relationships.
• I was socially awkward, and it was apparent to everyone.

What others saw as "niceness" was primarily a survival strategy on my part.

If I seemed eager to trust my classmates, it was simply because I craved companionship. If I appeared to be a well-behaved student, it was because I knew teachers would be stricter with me compared to others. My Kindergarten teacher even labeled me a "freak" because I struggled to learn social skills in traditional ways.

If I looked disinterested in spending time at school, it was because I longed for the day when I could escape to a better environment, away from judgmental peers. To achieve this, I focused on getting good grades, which earned me the "nerd" label.

My reluctance to pursue dating stemmed from the fear of being shunned for showing interest in other boys.

And even now, I continue to grapple with these challenges.

Contrary to the belief that things inevitably improve, as Dan Savage suggests, my reflection on these past experiences has led me to research how heterosexual individuals perceive "nice guys." This exploration revealed two primary categories that heterosexual women seem to identify.

The first is the experience-deprived nice guy, followed by the deceptive nice guy.

Psychologist Mark Travers notes that women are generally more attracted to men who display moderate altruism rather than those who are overly selfless or barely caring. This balance aligns with the stereotype of women as natural nurturers. Veronica Huerta Foster, a writer for Medium, emphasizes that she values shared interests and emotional reciprocity more than superficial niceness. In her view, forced politeness and neediness are significant turn-offs.

Alyssa Berthiaume, a writing coach, argues against the idea that agreeability is universally appealing in men. For her, being overly accommodating or romanticizing desire indicates a lack of confidence. Jennifer Bridges, a leadership trainer, defines "nice" as a balance of kindness and assertiveness.

Freelance writer Rina Magsombol believes women are drawn to the thrill of the chase, stating that "Nice guys finish last" should be interpreted literally. In her view, genuinely nice men should be willing to "finish last" because it implies that the woman he ends up with has matured.

Dating coach Chris Manak explains that nice guys often become excessively agreeable due to their fear of loneliness. Many idolize women, which can lead to an environment where women feel pressured to hide their true selves. He believes that the appeal of "bad boys" lies in their authenticity and self-assuredness.

The second type of "nice guy" is one who operates under a facade.

Pam Rentz, a paralegal and blogger, describes these men as self-serving, with hidden agendas behind their kindness. Zeynep Yenisey from Maxim identifies their motives as often being manipulative in pursuit of sexual gratification.

Gary Vaynerchuk, a digital entrepreneur, points out that these are genuinely bad individuals masquerading as nice. Their superficial kindness may yield short-term success with romantic partners, but true kindness is what endures. He distinguishes genuine kindness from passivity, referring to it as "radical candor," which embraces honesty and straightforwardness.

In her article "Bad Boys Are Better Than Nice Guys," Isvari, a Medium writer, shares her thoughts on the bad/nice dichotomy. She notes that while there are exceptions, she generally prefers the qualities of so-called bad boys — their relaxed nature, confidence, and protectiveness. Conversely, she finds nice guys to be unreliable, manipulative, and needy.

Lindsay Dodgson from Huffington Post succinctly summarizes that compassion should outweigh superficial traits for women seeking lasting relationships. She argues that those drawn to selfishness and narcissism are typically only interested in short-term encounters.

Returning to my own experience, how do I reconcile this information? Particularly when I've often been labeled a "nice guy," regardless of whether the observer knows my sexual orientation?

I would categorize myself as more experience-deprived than deceptive. In fact, one might even label me an "experience-deprived bad boy," as I tend to be forthright about my desires and acknowledge my social limitations.

I readily admit that I don't come across as overtly "nice." I speak my mind and often criticize openly. Yet, I strive not to be deliberately cruel. Perhaps my straightforwardness is misinterpreted as niceness.

If I seem "nice," it could imply one of three things:

1. I genuinely appreciate you and wish to know you better, whether platonically or romantically.
2. I find you toxic and am merely pretending to be agreeable to outmaneuver you.
3. If we are merely acquaintances, I respect your role and believe you deserve acknowledgment for it.

Navigating the often misguided dating advice geared toward heterosexuals is challenging. Admittedly, my romantic history is sparse, influenced by various factors:

• I was a workaholic for at least six years, leaving little room for dating.
• A past abusive relationship left me grappling with codependency.
• I faced issues around sexual incompatibility and geographic limitations with past partners.
• The local social scene for LGBT+ individuals is quite limited.

From my experiences, schools can perpetuate toxic masculinity, with some educators unknowingly reinforcing harmful gender roles. It's imperative to support younger generations in navigating these issues more effectively than previous generations managed.

I embrace my tendency to be direct — it serves a purpose. Experiencing violence, harassment, or emotional abuse can lead one to adopt a defensive facade of "niceness" to avoid further ostracization.

While social justice matters deeply to me, I can only suppress my combative nature to a certain extent. I believe in fairness, equality, and equity, but I refuse to simplify these concepts into binary categories.

If you perceive someone as "nice," be cautious in underestimating the complexities that may lie beneath the surface. Because, in my case, I’m unapologetically ready to confront those who cross me.