About Unwritten

Everyone has two sides. The good and the bad. The version they show to the world, and the one that slips out when no one’s watching.

It’s easy to love someone’s best self. Their confidence, their warmth, the way they make you feel seen. But you only really know a person when you’ve witnessed their worst. How they handle anger. How they behave when things don’t go their way. That’s when character stops being theory and starts being evidence.

I used to think goodness was about being pleasant. Agreeable. Predictable. But that kind of goodness is brittle. One hard truth away from cracking. Real goodness isn’t about never losing your temper or making mistakes. It’s about what you do after.

We live in a world that worships perfection and punishes imperfection. Cancel culture thrives on this illusion that people are either good or bad, worthy or disposable. But the truth is, most of us live somewhere in the middle which is messy, trying, contradicting ourselves daily. Growth doesn’t happen in purity. It happens in discomfort.

I’ve seen both sides in myself. The calm and the combative. The empathetic and the impatient. The version that forgives, and the one that quietly keeps score.

Because pretending to be all light doesn’t make you pure; it just makes you dishonest.

The trick isn’t to erase one: it’s to own both, and to know which one’s driving when it matters. And maybe that’s what adulthood really is: learning to hold yourself accountable without hating yourself for being human.