Why Being “Low-Drama” Isn’t the Flex You Think It Is (When It’s Just Suppression)
Photo Credit: Charday Penn via iStockPhoto.com
By: Jamila Gomez
We live in a world where being “low-drama” is praised like a personality trait. You hear it everywhere—“I don’t do drama,” “I’m chill,” “I just keep the peace.” But here’s the hard truth: sometimes that low-drama energy is not peace. It’s emotional suppression in disguise.
Especially for survivors of narcissistic abuse or emotionally unavailable dynamics, being “low-drama” is often not a sign of maturity—it’s a trauma response. It’s what happens when expressing your needs was punished, when being honest got flipped back on you, or when standing up for yourself only made things worse.
So you learned to stay quiet. You learned to shrink. You learned that feeling less was safer than being too much.
But here’s the danger: in the name of being easygoing, you can lose touch with your own emotional reality. You convince yourself that your standards are “too high,” your boundaries are “harsh,” or your feelings are “too sensitive.” You start settling for crumbs and calling it grace. You stop asking for what you need because silence feels safer than rejection.
You begin to wear your lack of reaction like armor.
But you weren’t made to be numb.
There is a difference between peace and passivity. Peace is intentional. It’s rooted in clarity, honesty, and alignment. Passivity, though? That’s when you don’t speak up because you’re afraid of conflict. That’s when you tolerate mistreatment and call it “not wanting drama.”
And let’s be real: narcissists love a low-drama woman. They thrive when you don’t question, don’t challenge, don’t confront. They count on your silence to keep control.
Healing means learning to stop seeing your voice as a liability. It means recognizing that emotion doesn’t equal chaos—and expressing hurt doesn’t make you difficult.
Being “low-drama” is only admirable if it comes from regulation, not repression. If it’s based on self-awareness, not fear of being abandoned.
So if you’ve ever prided yourself on being “unbothered,” ask yourself: is that peace—or is that shutdown?
You don’t have to explode to be expressive. You don’t have to argue to advocate. You don’t have to be chaotic to be clear.
You just have to believe that your feelings matter—and that drama isn’t the issue.
Disrespect is.