I once met a man at a house party who absolutely hated his ex-girlfriend. He told me that she had treated him horribly toward the end of their relationship—she was selfish, cruel, and emotionally distant. It was very obvious he hated her. I only got his side of the story, not hers, but honestly, that’s not the important part here.

What stuck with me wasn’t his grudge but what came after it.

For five minutes, he vented about how she’d hurt him, how he’d never forgive her. Then, without skipping a beat, he told me how amazing she was as an artist. She had painted a beautiful piece that he still had hanging in his flat. He described the intricate brushstrokes, the way each stroke captured emotion in a way that felt raw and honest. He spoke about the times they went to art galleries together and how inspired he was by her work. For a minute, I almost forgot I was listening to someone who was still clearly bitter about their breakup. But then, out of nowhere, he added: “Don’t get me wrong, I still hate her.”

It caught me off guard. Both things were true at once: she was an amazing artist and, in his eyes, a terrible girlfriend. And that was fascinating to me because most of the time, when we dislike someone, we don’t let them have that duality.

When we dislike someone, it’s easier to make them seem useless or untalented. We exaggerate flaws and ignore strengths, all to justify our feelings. It’s much more convenient to believe someone’s completely awful than to accept the truth: they might actually be good at something—or even a lot of things—despite how much they irritate us.

And, look, I get it. I’m ethnically Bengali, and if there’s one thing Bengalis know how to do, it’s shittalk. Gossip runs through our bloodline. We can hold grudges for generations. I’ve seen family members get into a fight over who cooked the fish curry better, and you’d think they were feuding warlords. Backstabbing and dramatic shittalking are practically cultural pastimes. So I’m not going to sit here and act like I’m above it all. I’ve done my fair share of trashing people I don’t like.

But here’s the thing: people are not all one thing. They’re messy. They’re complicated. Just because someone treated you badly, lied to you, or embarrassed you doesn’t mean they’re bad at everything. A bad boyfriend can still be a great teacher. A toxic friend might be the funniest person in the room. A horrible ex might still be the best artist you’ve ever met.

Admitting this doesn’t mean you have to like them. You can absolutely hate someone and still recognise that they’re good at something. In fact, it shows maturity to do that. It means you’re being honest—not just with others, but with yourself.

The guy at the party? He got that. He still hated his ex, but he didn’t let that cloud the truth about her art. And honestly, I respected him for that. It made me wonder how often I’ve written people off completely just because they pissed me off. How many times have I ignored someone’s talent or skill because I was too busy disliking them?

We’re all guilty of this. It’s tempting to oversimplify people into good or bad, likable or unlikable. But if you’re really paying attention, you’ll realise that people are rarely just one thing. It’s a harder truth to swallow, but it’s a more honest one. And if we can learn to see the good in the people we dislike, maybe we’ll also learn to see the bad in the people we idolise—or the flaws in ourselves.

You don’t have to like everyone. But if we can admit the truth about them, even the inconvenient truths, we might just end up understanding more about ourselves in the process.