Before I even knew what a Nice Guy was in terms of the Nice Guy syndrome, I thought of myself as just that—a Nice Guy. And I truly believed I was. When I first read *No More Mr. Nice Guy* about 15 years ago, it was like looking into a mirror. Every page felt like it was written about me. But there was one thing in that book that hit me hard, like a punch to the gut: as a Nice Guy, I was actually really manipulative.

I had these covert contracts, these unspoken deals where I’d give just to get. I’d pretend to be whatever someone wanted me to be, but in reality, I was just trying to get my needs met. My life was a lie. I was packaging nice as a way of manipulating others. My kind and accommodating nature was often a cover for a hidden agenda—to get what I wanted without feeling shameful or risking rejection or making someone mad at me.