Beyond Toxic: The Hidden People Who Don't Belong in Your Life
For the longest time, I thought life was about belonging. About being accepted, liked, and doing what was expected to avoid standing out. A true conformist. And I tried—I really tried—to fit in, adjust, and blend in.
But then life became too painful. Social experiences became too draining. And I started to rethink my place in all of it. It took years to unpack why I wasn’t doing well, why my relationships—especially my marriage—felt so frustrating. At first, it was just a lingering sense that something wasn’t right. I was constantly unhappy, always feeling misunderstood. And I never truly felt seen—at least not for anything beyond my patience and goodwill.
It wasn’t until I stumbled upon all those “toxic relationship” conversations online that I really started reflecting. I began questioning the dynamics in my social circles, the way conflicts (or unresolved conflicts) played out, and how some relationships could be quietly, persistently draining. I learned about gaslighting, narcissism, co-dependency—words that finally gave shape to what I had been experiencing. Gaslighting, for instance, is a form of psychological manipulation where someone distorts facts, denies reality, or twists the truth to make you doubt your own perceptions, memories, or sanity.
It took years to really fine-tune my awareness—to notice the subtle signs of manipulation, disregard, and emotional exhaustion in my own relationships. The more distance I put between myself and the people who left me feeling uncomfortable, the clearer everything became. I could finally see how I had been treated all my life—and how much of it I had accepted without question. Years of practice have taught me to spot the so-called red flags fairly early on.
And for the sake of fairness, I took a long, hard look at myself too. I examined how I had contributed to difficult relationships, how I had enabled certain dynamics without realising it. But if there’s one thing I can say from experience, it’s this: understanding yourself and learning to set better boundaries doesn’t necessarily fix your relationships. The way people talk about it everywhere, you’d think strong boundaries are the magic key to a better life with the people you know. But unless you also upgrade your circles, boundaries and open expression will mostly just confuse the same people who never understood them in the first place.
The Overtly Toxic People: Narcissism and the Obvious Drainers
When we think of toxic people, we often imagine narcissists—individuals who manipulate and dominate relationships for their own gain. These people are highly draining, exhibiting traits that leave us questioning our sanity and emotionally exhausting us. Narcissism is the classic example, but it’s not the only kind of overt toxicity. At this point, I don’t think I’ve ever been exposed to a classic narcissist. Though I have a feeling that I’ve met some. But it’s almost impossible to recognise them, I think, until you get their true attention.
There are also individuals who, while not as blatantly manipulative as narcissists, can still cause significant harm through their behaviour. The pop-culture literature has many different terms for these people. People with narcissistic traits, borderline personality disorder, or even antisocial tendencies—generally so-called personality disorders—tend to create chaos in relationships. They often make others feel like their needs are secondary and, over time, emotionally wear them down. Most of them use gaslighting and other forms of emotional manipulation, and they aren’t ready to take a good, hard look at themselves or take accountability for their behaviour.
I’ve definitely come across people with covert narcissistic traits—those who aren’t outright abusive but still create a lopsided dynamic where only their needs seem to matter. They don’t demand the spotlight like the more obvious narcissists, but somehow, you still end up feeling invisible. No matter how much you give, it’s never quite returned. And over time, the imbalance wears you down, leaving you wondering why your needs always take a backseat while you’re the one putting in all the effort.
However, my personal experience didn’t involve many of these so-called toxic people with overt traits. Common red flags that can signal unhealthy dynamics include passive-aggressive behaviour, where individuals express negative feelings indirectly rather than openly addressing them; conflict avoidance or deflection of responsibility, which leads to unresolved issues and simmering resentment; constant negativity that can drain the energy from any interaction; and self-centredness, where one’s own needs consistently overshadow those of others. Recognising these traits can help in understanding and navigating complex relationships.
But in the end, I found myself struggling with something different—people who were not inherently bad, but were still draining me. They weren’t malicious, but their behaviours, or lack thereof, had a subtle but draining effect on me.
The Quiet Drainers
What I struggle with the most now are people who, despite being good people at their core, simply aren’t available for genuine relationships. They’re people who don’t commit, don’t take accountability, and often fail to show up when you need them the most. These people don’t have the emotional depth I’m seeking, nor the willingness to address conflicts, let alone the interest and capacity to support me through my challenging times.
If you have these in your life, like I do, you’ll recognise that none of them seem overtly toxic, but over time, they can drain you in subtle, almost imperceptible ways. They don’t scream or shout, but they wear you down with their lack of presence, empathy, or effort. They never seem to notice when you’re struggling, and their indifference can create an emotional void or emotional overreactions in yourself that you can’t explain.
I often find myself unable to precisely label what makes these people difficult to be around, but there’s something about their energy that just doesn’t seem to match mine. It’s not so much about them being bad people—maybe it’s more about misaligned values and interests. They’re simply not the right fit for my life, and being with them can leave me feeling drained and disconnected. You could say they wear you down with their inattention and lack of care.
Some of the traits I’ve observed in these quiet drainers include:
Don’t ask questions: They’re not curious about you, your values, or your ideas.
Uncomfortable with differing opinions: They can’t handle any disagreement and generally show no curiosity for new things or ideas. They often have very little to say other than repeating accepted opinions.
No acknowledgment of mistakes: They refuse to admit they’re human and make mistakes. They detach from responsibility, and saying "sorry" feels impossible for them. Generally, they are unavailable for conflict, preferring unresolved harmony to resolved peace.
Words don’t match actions: They dream big but don’t act on those dreams. They talk a lot but contribute little.
Living on their terms, ususally non-committal: They remain emotionally distant and unwilling to fully invest in a relationship (platonic, too). They put themselves first, don’t respond to texts, and don’t share their struggles. They find excuses for themselves to avoid commitment. They can’t say ‘no,’ so they show behaviours that convey the same message. Or they play hot and cold with you: sometimes they’re available, but more often than not, they aren’t. You hear from them when they want to share with you. But you don't hear from them any other time. I found a quote online that reads “If someone treats you like they don't care, believe them.” I think that hits the nail on the head.
Lack of humour: They can’t laugh at themselves or life in general. There’s always a heavy, serious vibe around them that makes you feel like you’re walking on eggshells when you’re trying to lighten the mood.
Money instead of relationships: Some of them give material things that seem to replace the emotional connection you crave. It’s like they’re paying for the guilt they have about not being invested more.
No interest in your well-being: They don’t seem to care if you’re okay, or show up as if they have no influence on your well-being. They remain indifferent or detached when you're struggling. They may even go as far as insulting you for your needs.
Emotions are taboo: They avoid discussing personal feelings, and conversations only touch on surface-level topics. There’s just never an authentic “you” and “me” connection.
No dreams or ambitions: They may seem to lack a vision for their future, and that can feel stifling. This is probably the same reason they don’t get you or may even sabotage your efforts. You dream big and are willing to work for it. This is assuming you’re like me and are willing to put in the effort to have the life that you dream of. It’s okay to not have dreams. But at least my experience is that those who don’t dream tend to hold those back that do.
My subjective feeling is that they’re rather negative, hopeless, and not very curious about life. They’re also always emotionally immature. Of course, some of these issues are toxic in the end, too.
When I reflect on it, I realise that it’s not the overt rage or destruction that’s the issue that I have with most people—it’s the lack of care. It’s the people who don’t ask about your day, who don’t listen when you’re struggling. They’re not malicious, but they leave you feeling empty and unimportant nonetheless.
It’s hard for me to talk about these people in a negative way because, on some level, they’re not "bad". They may have issues with social commitment, conflict aversion, or emotional availability, but at their core, they’re trying to be good people. It’s just that their efforts don’t quite align with what I need or expect in a mature relationship.
Emotional Maturity: The Heart of Healthy Relationships
What does emotional maturity look like, really? It’s not about having all the answers or never making mistakes—it’s about how we handle ourselves when things get tough, how we show up when it’s not easy, and how we take responsibility for our emotions and actions.
Emotionally mature people know how to regulate their emotions, especially in stressful or difficult situations. They recognise their feelings, understand them, and respond in a way that’s healthy, both for themselves and for others around them.
One of the clearest signs of emotional maturity is the ability to own up to mistakes. Instead of shifting blame or avoiding responsibility, they acknowledge when they’ve been wrong and work toward understanding why. This doesn’t mean perfection—it means a willingness to learn, grow, and do better next time.
What matters most is the intention to resolve conflict. Emotional maturity doesn’t require us to be rational in every moment of misunderstanding. We can be irrational, we can feel hurt, but we can still have the intention to come back and make things right. Maturity is about holding space for ourselves and others to be human, to get it wrong, and to have the courage to return to the conversation when things are calmer and clearer. It's about accountability, the willingness to revisit difficult moments, and the drive to repair and reconnect, and own up to shortcomings, no matter how long it takes.
Another key trait of emotional maturity is the ability to handle conflict constructively. It’s easy to run away from disagreements, to avoid uncomfortable conversations, or to keep score of wrongs. But emotionally mature people know that avoiding conflict never truly resolves anything. Instead, they engage in tough conversations with a mindset of growth, understanding that both sides have their own truths and are equally worthy of being heard.
But emotional maturity doesn’t just show up in big moments—or in the small, everyday actions too. It’s about listening with intent, showing up when someone needs you, it’s even about mutural interest when both are not well, being able to empathise without trying to fix things, and—most importantly—holding space for others without expecting them to fill your emotional needs. It’s about understanding that relationships are reciprocal, and they only thrive when both people are emotionally available and willing to grow together.
In contrast, emotional immaturity often shows itself through avoidance, defensiveness, or an inability to handle strong feelings. When someone is emotionally immature, they might avoid taking responsibility for their actions, or they might react impulsively rather than thoughtfully. They might demand to be heard, but never listen in return. And when conflict arises, they may shut down, deflect, or even escalate the situation rather than finding a constructive way forward.
How to Deal with People Who Drain You
This is one of the hardest aspects of dealing with the people who wear you out. There’s no one-size-fits-all solution for any social conflict. For some, the answer may be to set clear boundaries and distance themselves, while for others, maintaining some level of contact is necessary, especially if the relationship is with family or long-time friend.
First of all, we have to be aware of what we’re dealing with. The skills of manipulation that we see in typically toxic traits can be very destructive for relationships. Yet we also have to acknowledge that most of us are capable of manipulation to a degree when we’re faced with aspects of ourselves that we’re not ready to deal with. I have cut a lot of bridges with a lot of people in my life because I wasn’t mature enough to know how to deal with them. I think we all have these relationships that we didn’t handle well because we didn’t know better.
The key is to find what works for you and for each relationship in your life. If your life is already challenging, you may need to cut certain people out to protect your energy. I have also stepped away from a number of relationships for my own mental and emotional survival when my life was hard and I couldn’t face the silent rejection or neglect I felt with some people. However, if you have a strong support network, sometimes creating emotional distance without total separation, even with very toxic people, is often the better solution—also for your own well-being. I think sometimes it’s better to stay at a distance than lose a person who we’re going to miss.
But sometimes, we need distance to preserve our authentic selves. For instance, I just cannot deal with people who run from their problems while connecting with me over their distractions. I care deeply about authentic connections—people who are willing to face their issues and grow together. Those who avoid this reality drain me, and I had to learn to keep them at arm’s length.
Taking the Hint: Learning from Your Disappointments
Ultimately, our suffering with our relationships is an opportunity to look deeper within ourselves. What is it that disappoints us in others? It could be a lack of commitment, differing values, or behaviours that don’t match our own vision for a meaningful relationship or even life. It’s not always the overtly manipulative individuals causing harm; sometimes, it’s the quieter, subtler drainers that leave us feeling emotionally depleted. We all have different emotional needs. Some people require more social interaction, while others thrive in solitude. If you suffer from people who prefer solitude while you crave connection, then it’s something you have to look at.
It’s not about labelling everyone we meet as toxic, what a lot of people do (heck, what I did for many years)—it’s about realising that some people are simply lost. They take from us without ever giving anything back, and it’s up to us to decide when to stop offering so much of ourselves.
Take a moment to reflect: What traits do you struggle with the most in people? What disappoints you? How do you cope with these challenges? The answers to these questions can help guide you toward understanding what you truly need from the relationships in your life and how you can protect your energy and authenticity.