Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be understanding.
It’s a word I’ve heard all my life — often as a compliment.
“She’s so understanding,” people would say, as if it were the gold standard of being a “good” person.
And I am understanding. I try to see where people are coming from, give them the benefit of the doubt, and hold space for their moods and mistakes. But here’s the truth I’ve slowly come to realize — being understanding doesn’t mean letting people walk all over you.
There’s a fine line between empathy and self-erasure.
Between being kind and being taken for granted.
Somewhere along the way, especially as women, we’re taught that understanding automatically means adjusting — that love and patience should come with unlimited tolerance. But they shouldn’t. Because understanding is about awareness, not endurance.
I’ve also been noticing how fluid everything is these days — roles, responsibilities, expectations. And thank goodness for that. The world’s finally catching up to something we’ve always known deep down: not everything has to be gendered.
Cooking, caring, managing, earning — none of it belongs exclusively to one person or gender anymore.
Yet, old conditioning doesn’t disappear overnight. We still find ourselves — women, especially — slipping into the role of the understanding one. The one who compromises, forgives, smooths things over. The one who’s expected to handle it gracefully, no matter what.
But here’s the thing: I don’t want to be understanding if it comes at the cost of my peace.
I want to be understanding and respected.
I want relationships — whether personal or professional — where understanding goes both ways.
Because it’s not about who adjusts more, or who sacrifices more.
It’s about meeting halfway — both people showing up, both people trying.
So these days, I remind myself often:
Yes, I’ll be understanding. But I won’t be taken for granted.
And that distinction has made all the difference.
