Kristen Bell Thinks Being Nice Is Overrated

By some combination of genetics and luck (both good and bad), I’ve never been a physically powerful person. My 5′2′′, shrimpy, less-than-ideal-muscle-mass stature has always placed me on the wrong side of somatic prowess. Despite this, I have always felt strong. Very strong. Like, strong enough to medal in the Olympic heavyweight competition. Okay, maybe not gold, but I’m definitely on the awards stand.

In high school, I came to the realization that my delusional sense of strength actually did have an attributable source: It came from being nice to others. Acts of kindness gave me an endorphin boost and made me feel emotionally and physically strong. After I made this connection, I spent the majority of my days considering and implementing acts of nicety. I made sure to smile at strangers on the street, I donated time to charitable organizations, and I always did my best to make people feel good. I had a real handle on kindness. I knew it inside and out and could generate it like a beast.

Then I met my husband, Dax. And he caused me to question everything I knew to be true. Early in our relationship, I went to him with a problem. I had hit a point in my career where I began comparing myself to other actresses. I’d look around and wonder why I wasn’t considered for X job or Y role when I felt equally qualified and passionate as those around me.

I became increasingly resentful and disappointed when my success didn’t line up with others’. I had, unknowingly, tied my self-worth to everyone other than myself. Most
of my friends validated my feelings, and I loved them for it! I was happy to hear, “You’re right! You should be getting those roles. You deserve it.”

Then I turned to Dax. He looked me square in the eye and said, “Are you crazy? This is a self-destructive path. You can only compare your current self to your former self. You’ll get a comparison hangover if you constantly measure your worth against someone else.” Rather than coddling, he was honest. Dax was uncompromising in his refusal to cosign my pity, wallow with me, and tell me I was one hundred percent right.

At first, I was defensive. I was expecting to hear, “No! You’re worth it. You should feel angry.” But I didn’t need someone to encourage my feelings of victimization. What I needed was someone to remove me from my echo chamber. He showed me true kindness by putting him self in an uncomfortable position and telling me what I needed to hear instead of what I wanted to hear.

It was at that moment I realized being nice isn’t synonymous with being kind. Being kind is more than a smile on the street or donating to charitable causes. It’s even more than making people feel good. Not to dismiss any of these acts. They are all wonderful and admirable and imperative to making the world go round. But kindness is different. Kindness is the high dive. It requires courage and vulnerability to choose to be honest with people when they may not want to hear it. Real talk — it’s scary. Like, pee-in-your-pants scary. But it’s also worth it, because when executed correctly, kindness can produce real personal evolution.

I’ve learned so much from my husband, but I’m most grateful for his lesson in true kind- ness and the power it holds. Because of it, I’ve never felt stronger. Very strong. Like, Olympic gold.

This article was originally published as Why Being Nice Isn't Always All That in the August 2017 issue of Cosmopolitan. Click here to subscribe to the digital edition.