There Is No Reward for Being Good

The Myth of Goodness

I used to believe there was a reward for being good.

From a young age, I thought goodness was a path to happiness, peace, and prosperity. I imagined that if I kept my head down, stayed quiet, followed the rules, and did what was expected of me, life would somehow repay me.

But I’ve learned that isn’t true.

Both the “good” and the “bad” end up in the same place. Those who stray from the script, who break rules and choose themselves unapologetically, are often rewarded. Meanwhile, those of us who fought tooth and nail to be good, who bent ourselves to fit the mould of what we thought goodness was, carry the scars. We suffer in silence, and for what?

I look at myself now, in this heavy place of depression, and I ask: What was the price of being good?

The Survival Instinct Disguised as Virtue

I learned early on that being good was a survival tactic. TV taught me that goodness would eventually lead to happiness. If I endured my one “big” trial, everything would fall into place.

I wanted to be good so badly.

I thought that if I was good enough, my absent father would finally claim me, see me as his child instead of the part of himself he wanted to erase.

I thought that if I was good enough, my mother would look at me and see me instead of the man who left her.

I wanted to be good so that I would never be a burden.

I believed that my childhood trauma was something I had earned; proof that I wasn’t good enough. So I kept my head down. I stayed quiet. I did what I thought was “right.”

And now, I’m questioning everything.

When Goodness Becomes Isolation

I think about my family and how I’ve always felt like an outsider. Aside from Christmases or the rare event I hosted myself, I was never invited to family gatherings. I spent years asking myself: What did I do to deserve this? Why am I always left out?

Now I wonder if the image I created of the “good” girl, the one who followed the rules and held herself together, made them see me as someone who thought she was better than them.

I remember telling a male friend once that I didn’t understand why some of my friends didn’t invite me to things I wanted to be part of. He said, “They think you believe you’re better than them.”

That stunned me.

I wasn’t carrying myself that way out of pride. I had trained myself to be “good,” to be respectable, to be worthy of love. But that very attempt to be accepted became the reason I was shut out.

There is no reward in being good.

If anything, trying so hard to be good has only made me miserable. It has cost me relationships, joy, spontaneity, and the freedom to make mistakes when I was younger. It has left me lonely, living under a mask of virtue while I quietly fell apart.

The Truth That Finally Set Me Free

And now, as I grow older, I see it clearly:
Being good isn’t a golden ticket.
It doesn’t guarantee happiness, love, or belonging.
If anything, it can guarantee emptiness.

There is no reward for being good.
And I am tired of trying to earn one.

A Gentle Reminder to the Ones Who Tried Too Hard

If you’ve spent your life trying to be good, trying to earn love, safety, or belonging, this is your reminder: you don’t have to perform anymore.

You don’t have to shrink to be accepted.
You don’t have to silence your truth to be seen.
You don’t have to keep proving that you’re worthy.

Goodness that costs your peace is not goodness; it’s conditioning.
You deserve a life that feels free, not one that feels earned.

Maybe the real reward isn’t in being good.
Maybe it’s in being real.