“We are not here to be good boys and girls.” — James Hollis

That one line cuts so deep.

Because for much of my life, being “good” was the safest strategy I had. Good meant quiet. Good meant agreeable. Good meant don’t rock the boat — even when the boat is sinking. Good meant stay small so no one feels uncomfortable.

But as Hollis says — that’s not why we’re here.

We weren’t born to play roles that kept other people calm. We weren’t born to contort ourselves to meet the expectations of systems, families, or institutions that couldn’t meet us where we were.

Being “good” may keep us safe — but it also keeps us asleep.

And I see it now. I’ve seen how that script plays out in every part of my life:

Apologising for asking difficult questions.

Shrinking in rooms where I know I carry wisdom.

Accepting decisions that don’t feel right because I don’t want to seem “entitled.”

But I’m not here for that anymore.

I’m not here to be “a good student.” I’m not here to be “a good son.” I’m not even here to be “a good therapist-in-training.” I’m here to be real.

And that’s not always tidy.

Sometimes it means telling a tutor their suggestion makes no sense. Sometimes it means refusing to accept a vague rejection with no feedback. Sometimes it means walking away from a system that talks about congruence but doesn’t live it.

But every time I do that, something in me reclaims itself.

This is the quiet revolution: To stop trying to be good — and start trying to be true.