You Ungrateful Git
How many times have we muttered this, or something very close?
git /gɪt/ noun. British colloquial. A mildly contemptuous term for someone perceived as thoughtless, selfish, or lacking basic decency.
Usually thought rather than spoken, the phrase ‘you ungrateful git’ expresses a very specific feeling. Betrayal. You gave time, help, effort, support. Often without being asked. And they could not even be bothered to say thank you.
When shared with a third party, often in search of sympathy, it is commonly followed by a qualifying remark.
‘I didn’t want anything back, but a thank you would have been nice.’
If you recognise yourself in either of these statements, there is a fundamental flaw in how you are approaching relationships, and possibly life itself.
The phrase ‘you ungrateful git’ reveals something uncomfortable. It reveals that your giving was conditional. You expected a return. Perhaps not money, not praise, not loyalty. Just acknowledgement. Just validation. Just a signal that what you did mattered.
What is wrong with that, you might ask.
The problem is not kindness. The problem is dependence.
When you give with an expectation, however subtle, you tie your sense of worth to the other person’s response. You hand them the power to decide whether your effort was worthwhile. You empower them, consciously or not, to reward you or ignore you. To validate you or leave you feeling resentful.
Usually the expectation is there before the help. Unspoken. Unexamined. You give, assuming a return of some kind. The other person never agreed to anything, and may not even realise a transaction is taking place. When nothing comes back to you, the disappointment is real, but entirely self-generated.
This gets worse when the help was unsolicited. Stepping in without being asked, then expecting gratitude, is a double bind. Not only may the other person fail to appreciate your effort, they may resent the intrusion. The hurt that follows feels sharper because it feels unjust.
From their perspective, you interfered. From yours, you were generous. Neither experience is wrong, but the collision is entirely predictable.
And don’t worry, you’re not alone in this. Most people have been conditioned this way. ‘One good turn deserves another’ is deeply ingrained in our culture, taught early, reinforced socially, and even validated academically. Robert Cialdini’s principle of reciprocity formalised it within the psychology of persuasion. Give something, and a return should follow.
The problem is not that reciprocity exists. The problem is assuming it applies automatically, universally, and without consent. When it doesn’t, people feel hurt, used, or taken for granted, without ever questioning the hidden expectation that created the disappointment in the first place.
There is another way to approach this. A better way. A healthier and more enduring way. One that removes resentment, restores dignity, and returns control to where it belongs..
Alfred Adler, whom I consider one of the most important psychologists of the twentieth century, argued that maturity comes when we learn to separate our tasks from those of others. In simple terms, we stop needing other people to feel, think, or respond in certain ways for us to be at peace.
Applied here, the shift is profound.
Instead of giving in order to receive appreciation, you give because you choose to. The act itself becomes complete. The satisfaction comes from being useful, from contributing, from acting in line with your values. Not from the response.
The moment you have been of use, as you define it, the transaction is finished.
This does not mean appreciation has no place. When gratitude shows up, acknowledge it. Let it inform your future choices and, where appropriate, strengthen the bond. But it is no longer a requirement. Your sense of completion does not rest in another person’s hands
This independence changes everything. It restores control to where it belongs and strips away the quiet resentment that accumulates when expectations go unmet.
It makes you emotionally sovereign. You are no longer hostage to how others behave. Their response becomes information, not judgement. Feedback, not a verdict on your worth.
It also gives you choice.
Giving unconditionally does not mean giving endlessly or indiscriminately. It does not mean tolerating ingratitude. You are free to notice where your effort is valued and where it is squandered. Personally, I invest my energy where it creates the most benefit. Ungrateful people rarely make good use of gifts.
As you practise this way of relating, you refine your judgement. You learn where to help, how to help, and when to step back. Relationships improve, not because you demand more, but because you need less.
And yes, this may require unlearning a lifetime of conditioning. Society quietly trains us to trade effort for approval, kindness for validation, generosity for recognition. Letting go of that habit takes time.
One final point.
The follow up phrase, ‘I didn’t want anything back, but a thank you would have been nice’, deserves honesty. If you wanted nothing back, you would not be disappointed. The disappointment is the evidence. Better to acknowledge it than pretend otherwise.
There is nothing wrong with wanting appreciation. But there is power in recognising when that want is running your behaviour.
So the next time the phrase ‘you ungrateful git’ forms in your mind, pause. It is not really about them. It is a signal about where you gave away control.
Reclaim it. Give freely, or do not give at all. But do not outsource your peace.
Have a nice day.

