Society says "Don't be aggressive" but loves when you are submissive

You know what’s funny?

From childhood, we’re trained like obedient little robots:

“Don’t shout.”

“Don’t talk back.”

“Adjust, beta.”

“Respect your elders even if they’re being absolutely unreasonable.”

And what do we get applauded for?

Silence. Sacrifice. Smiling through pain.

Basically, for burying our truth so deep it forgets how to breathe.

We’re told:

"Don’t be aggressive — it’s bad, it makes people uncomfortable."

And yeah, I agree. Aggression hurts people.

But you know what hurts just as much, if not more?

Submissiveness.

Yeah. The silent killer. The one society never warns us about.

* Submissiveness: The Culturally Approved Poison

Let me break this down.

Submissiveness is not peace.

It’s self-abandonment dressed as politeness.

It’s when:

You say “It’s fine” even when it’s absolutely not fine.

You nod when you want to scream “No!”

You shrink yourself because your voice might make someone slightly uncomfortable.

You apologize for simply existing with a spine.

And let me be honest… we Indians are trained professionals at this.

We’ve mastered the art of “chup raho, adjust karo.”

You get scolded unfairly at work?

“Don’t react, he’s your boss.”

You get disrespected in a relationship?

“Let it go yaar, don't spoil things.”

Well, guess what?

Sometimes silence isn’t maturity.

Sometimes silence is just fear dressed up in tradition.

* How to Recognize Submissive Responses (Before They Eat You Alive)

Start noticing moments when you:

. Say sorry even when you didn’t do anything wrong.

. Avoid eye contact and look down like a criminal.

. Agree quickly just to avoid an argument.

. Don’t ask for what you need because “you don’t want to bother anyone.”

. Let people interrupt you, disrespect you, and you just smile.

If any of this feels familiar…

Congratulations. You're not weak. You're just conditioned.

And now — you can break it.

The Middle Path: Assertiveness (Not Aggression, Not Submission)

Assertiveness is the sweet spot.

It’s saying:

> “I respect you — but I also respect myself.”

It’s speaking up without attacking.

It’s holding your ground without guilt.

It’s saying “No” without apologizing like you committed a crime.

Here’s how assertiveness feels:

Calm. Clean. Powerful.

You feel like you're breathing your own air again.

No shouting. No fear. Just truth, with backbone.

What Helped Me?

. Self-awareness: I started catching myself in submissive loops.

. Rewriting beliefs: "Adjusting" is not always noble. Sometimes it’s self-neglect.

. Honoring emotions: If I'm angry or hurt, that's not a sin. It's data. It tells me something needs attention.

. Using my Buddhi (yes, real yogic inner compass) to know when to speak, when to let go, and when to stand tall without ego.

And when I faced disrespect — like a team lead venting his frustration on me —

Instead of swallowing it like usual,

I calmly told him the facts, held my tone, and challenged what wasn't my mistake.

No drama.

No ego.

Just clarity.

That’s assertiveness.

Final Words (If You’re Still Scared to Speak Up)

To all the nice souls out there who've been taught that being silent is being “good”:

You’re not here to be liked. You’re here to be true.

You can be gentle and powerful.

You can be kind without being silent.

You can love people without letting them walk over you.

Assertiveness is not rebellion.

It’s alignment with your truth.

So the next time someone expects you to “adjust” while they walk all over your dignity…

Take a deep breath…

Look them in the eyes…

And say what needs to be said.

With clarity.

With strength.

With love — for yourself.