At work, I converse pleasantly with the customers, even the ones who grab $400 worth of groceries and only have $150 on them. I smile, I repack in paper when they change their mind after they tell me plastic is fine. I apologize and get them a fresh loaf of bread after they smash it in their cart. I thank them and tell them to have a nice day while they grunt at me. I tell them it's my fault when they run me over or back into me with their carts. I'm pleasant when they yell at me. So I know I have the capability of filtering my responses.
I just don't know how to filter in my personal life. I am the person who will tell you that your hair looks like a pet groomer cut it. I'm the person who will tell you that your breath stinks and shoves a roll of breath mints at you. I'm the person who laughs at your bad comb over. I'm the person who will correct your grammar. I'm the mean person who will tell you that it's not the pants that make your butt look big, it's the ice cream you ate for dinner. I'm the person who will tell you that your writing is derivative. I'm the person who will tell you that you look like a serial killer in your picture.
I am also the person who will remind you that hair grows back and a good shampoo will make it better. I am also the person who will make sure no one else knows about your breath issues. I am also the person who will proofread your essays for you and help you raise your grade level without wanting anything in return. I am also the person who will commiserate with you as we both try to have a healthier diet (ice cream for breakfast only!). I'm also the person who will make suggestions, if you're open to them, of ways to improve your writing. I'm also the person will still love you even if you do look like a serial killer and remind you that Ted Bundy was considered very handsome.