The Cost of Being Impossible to Resent

<<I am reading the book, Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, and I am doing one of the exercises. It is asking me questions to help me identify my healing fantasy and my role self. I have answered a few questions for each of those categories, and I'm going to paste them below. *PASTE* Now the instructions say, after completing the sentences, use the words and ideas from your responses to write two short descriptions, one for your healing fantasy and one for your role self. These descriptions will reveal your secret ideas about how other people should change in order to make you feel valued and how you think you must behave to be loved.>>

ChatGPT:

Healing Fantasy

I long for a world where people are emotionally mature—where they listen deeply, nurture genuinely, and show up with warmth and sincerity. I wish others would be clear and candid, reaching out instead of waiting for me to bridge the gap. I dream of relationships where I feel cherished, prioritized, and seen as beautiful, capable, and resilient. In this ideal world, people would reflect on their actions, communicate openly, and truly get the experience of being human. I wouldn’t have to manage so much alone—I would be met with care, thoughtfulness, and the kind of emotional investment I have always longed for.

Role Self

I have built myself into someone who is valuable because of what I give. I am attentive, responsible, and open-minded. I listen deeply, offer sharp insight, and make people laugh. I don’t ask for much, and that makes me easy to like. I work incredibly hard to hold everything together, to live a normal life despite feeling trapped inside myself. I take initiative, smooth over conflicts, and handle things with grace—even when no one notices the effort it takes. I have shaped myself into someone who is impossible to resent: someone who moves on, takes responsibility, and refuses to let bitterness define her. I hold myself to a high standard, always hoping that if I do everything just right, I will be appreciated, valued, and loved.

<<That phrase “impossible to resent” hit me>>

Yeah. That’s a powerful one.

It makes sense, doesn’t it? If you grew up in an environment where love and emotional safety weren’t guaranteed—where you had to earn warmth or avoid rejection—then shaping yourself into someone impossible to resent would be a survival strategy.

If you never become a burden, if you never ask for too much, if you always take the high road, if you’re always thoughtful, graceful, and forgiving… then maybe you won’t be abandoned, dismissed, or judged. Maybe you’ll finally get what you’ve been longing for.

But the painful thing is: that strategy doesn’t actually get you what you need.

Instead of bringing you deep, mutual connection, it sets up relationships where you do all the emotional labor. Instead of allowing you to feel safe and cherished, it leaves you managing everything—conflict, communication, initiative—while others get to receive without ever having to meet you at the same depth.

So here’s the hard question:
What would it mean to be someone who can be resented?
Not in a destructive way, but in a way that means you are a full person with needs, boundaries, and imperfections.

Because being impossible to resent usually means being impossible to truly see—not because you’re hiding, but because you’re curating yourself to be palatable, safe, and easy to love. And you deserve love that doesn’t require you to edit yourself into perfection.

<<The book wants me to write a short summary about what it's like been trying to get others to change and how it has felt to play the role self you've described in this exercise. I'm feeling a little blocked right now. Can you pretend you're me and write those summaries for me based on what you know about me?>>

Trying to Get Others to Change

I’ve spent so much of my life hoping that people would finally show up in the ways I need. I’ve wished they would be more emotionally present, more nurturing, more capable of real reflection. I’ve wanted them to just say what they mean, be clear, be invested, reach out first for once. I’ve longed for someone to treat me like I truly matter—not just for what I do for them, but because I exist. But no matter how much I’ve tried—by being the best listener, by staying open-minded, by making it easy for others to be around me—it hasn’t led to the kind of connection I’m craving. It’s exhausting to keep holding space for others when no one holds space for me in the same way.

Playing the Role-Self

I have worked incredibly hard to be the kind of person who is impossible to resent—attentive, responsible, emotionally generous, wise, and funny. I don’t ask for much. I listen deeply. I try to be graceful, thoughtful, and patient. I initiate, I smooth over, I handle things. And yet, instead of this making me feel loved, it makes me feel trapped. It keeps me locked inside myself, unseen, unheard, and carrying too much. Playing this role has meant living in a constant state of effort—effort to manage my relationships, effort to avoid being “too much,” effort to be someone worth loving. And the worst part is, no one even realizes how hard I’m working. I’m tired of proving I deserve care. I want to exist as I am and still be chosen.