The Villain That You Always Misunderstand: Should’ve Known Better

I wasn’t born a villain or ever awoke with the thought, "Hey, I want to be the evil guy." That isn't true. It happened for the plot, and I took on the role of villain so you could turn the page, wanting to know what happens next. And truthfully? Playing that part is tiring when your main goal is to be recognised as a person, not as a shadow hiding in the background. A real person. The one you warn your friends about, the cautionary tale you tell yourself so that you don't have to feel bad. The antagonist. The "bad apple". The person who, really, so to say, deserved it.

The Villain Everyone Thinks They Know

I’m certain that you think you know me. The one who made wrong choices, who barges through others' lives, unfeeling, somewhere around chapters five or six, losing anybody's sympathy. But here's what I want to say: you have only seen what the story wanted you to see. The surface stuff. That tragic mess.

The "villainous" deeds. You never saw the long, quiet nights when I was genuinely attempting to be good. You missed the times I swallowed my pride; times I forced myself to smile even when my heart was breaking; and all those moments when I was crying out—yes, crying out—to be picked, to be noticed, and to be loved.

How Neglect and Silence Shape a Villain

You must already know that I was built from neglect. That is not some channelling of a movie-villain atmosphere but the slow-grinding silence of being ignored and shoved aside. It is like reaching out your hand a number of times, only to have it ignored. The sting of those cold shoulders and slammed doors? That's what made me who I am. Each unkind word, each disdainful glance that said, "You've got no business here," chipped deep into my fragile parts until the remains thereof were a hard shell built to look good on the outside.

Why I Lashed Out: Not Cruelty, But a Cry for Attention

So yeah, I lashed out. But not because I wanted to bring down the whole world. No, unlike a thousand other times, I just wanted someone—even anyone—to see me. I wanted to be seen, stripped of the fake mask and the angry visage, the scared, confused, stubborn mess that I was.

They called me selfish. Selfish? Try survival. Because sometimes survival can be ugly. Sometimes survival is when you push people away before they hurt you first. Sometimes survival means burning bridges—not because you want to, but because it's colder to be lonely than to be left in the cold by somebody else. It's messy, it hurts, and you don't get a damn prize for it.

The Myth of the Perfect Redemption Arc

Here’s the honest truth: everyone wants a villain who suddenly “redeems” herself—but only if it happens exactly how they want it to. Like, you have to bleed just the right amount, say sorry right on cue, and cry those perfectly timed tears that make everyone forgive you. Heck, maybe you even have to go out like a hero so folks remember you as “tragic” instead of just plain “terrible.” Sound like a storyline you’ve heard one too many times? Yeah, me too.

But real healing? It’s nothing like that neat little Hollywood script. It’s messy. It’s slow as molasses. And honestly, sometimes it makes everyone else super uncomfortable. I wanted to get better, sure—but not wrapped up in some pretty little package that fits into a neat, feel-good redemption story. No, I needed room to mess up, to be confused, to fumble my way through figuring myself out without someone rushing in to slap a label on me. I needed someone to see beyond the surface-level anger and pain—to see me as a stubborn, imperfect human just trying to live my life.

Because, we all know, life’s not a fairy tale where everyone gets their happily ever after on schedule. Sometimes, healing looks like a hot mess. And that’s okay.

Not the Villain You Think I Am

No, I’m not the villain you’ve been picturing. Honestly, I’m just someone who got completely worn down—broken and invisible for so long that it felt like I was fading away, piece by piece.

Let me ask you something—have you ever been in a fight with someone and shoved them away, not because you didn’t care, but because you were terrified of getting hurt again? Like, you wanted to reach out but your heart was screaming, “Nope, not this time”? Or maybe you’ve built up walls around yourself so high and thick that even you’ve kinda forgotten what it feels like to let someone in? Yeah… I’ve been there. It’s messy as hell. It’s awkward. It’s a total disaster sometimes. But you know what? It’s real. And if you think you’re alone in that, you’re not. So many of us have been stuck in that exact same place, trying to figure out how to live without breaking, even when it feels impossible.

What If the Villain Was Just Someone in Pain?

Look, I am not saying that anything and everything I ever did can be excused. I have done plenty of wrongs. Big ones. But I was never without a heart. I was just tired. I was broken. I was scared. And sometimes, those things don’t even look like you expect.

Maybe if someone had really stuck around long enough to ask the real reason behind why I behaved the way I did, I might never have had to live out that terrible role of the villain.

Writing Your Own Ending

I never wanted to become the monster. 

I wanted to be understood. 

So, here is that anonymous letter from villain to you and any other soul out there feeling ever so stuck in the role they never auditioned for: you are not alone. Every story has so much more to it than what is shown on the surface.  And if you are one of those out there feeling like the "bad guy" in your own life, maybe it is time to stop hearing that script and start writing your own ending.

Feel free to visit Liana The Writer for more stories and reflections that might feel like they were written just for you.