When Someone Acts Entitled: How to Respond Without Losing Yourself
Oct 05, 2025
It’s an uncomfortable moment.
You’re standing in line at a café, and the customer in front of you is berating the barista. Their drink isn’t perfect. Their order wasn’t fast enough. Their voice gets sharper with each complaint. You feel your chest tighten.
Entitled.
The word pops into your head before you even realize it. And with that thought comes judgment. Maybe anger. Maybe even shame—because now you’re judging someone, and that doesn’t feel great either.
I've been there.
I’ve also been on the receiving end of people who expected more of me than I felt okay giving. I’ve been told I should do more, give more, respond faster—because they needed something. Sometimes, I’ve responded from a place of defense. Sometimes I’ve shut down. And sometimes I’ve managed to stay connected to myself.
This blog is about those moments. The ones where someone acts entitled—and how we can respond without losing ourselves in the process.
What Is Entitlement, Really?
“Entitlement” is one of those words that’s easy to throw around and hard to define without edge. It often shows up as someone expecting special treatment, assuming they deserve more than others, or ignoring the needs or boundaries of the people around them.
But here’s the tricky part: once we label someone as “entitled,” we risk stepping into superiority ourselves.
We stop seeing the human. We start seeing a label.
That’s why I try to shift the question.
Instead of asking, “Why are they so entitled?” I ask, “What’s happening in me right now?”
Because if I’m honest, the moment I label someone as entitled, I usually feel some combination of anger, fear, and helplessness. Those are real feelings, and they need tending—not judging.
The Truth About Emotional Response
There’s a pattern I’ve noticed, and maybe you have too.
When someone expects something of us—especially something we didn’t offer—there’s a part of us that feels cornered. Maybe you’ve felt this:
- A coworker assumes you’ll pick up the slack—again.
- A friend hints that you owe them time or energy.
- A stranger expects a smile, a favor, a discount, or attention, just because.
These moments can trigger a strong emotional response. For me, it often shows up as tightness in my chest or a strong inner “No.” My thoughts speed up. I want to say something that puts the other person in their place… or I want to disappear.
Neither of those brings me closer to myself—or to love.
That’s why I lean on something my Aunt Beth told me when I was fifteen:
“Deb, if you can’t do something in love, don’t do it.”
That sentence changed me.
It gave me a compass. One that doesn’t erase my boundaries—but helps me honor them with compassion.
What Responding with Love Looks Like
Let’s say you’re in line at a coffee shop and you overhear someone grumbling that their drink is taking too long. Their tone drips with entitlement. You feel it in your chest—tight, irritated. Maybe even protective of the person behind the counter. And you’re tempted to say something like, “Hey, I can see you’re frustrated. The barista’s doing their best.”
But here’s the thing: that response, while well-meaning, opens the door for defensiveness. It places the listener in a position to argue, justify, or double down. You’ve now entered the dance—likely without meaning to.
A different approach keeps the energy grounded in your values, not theirs.
"I can see you're frustrated. I hope your day gets better."
This isn’t just gentler—it’s smarter. It’s an emotional regulation tool dressed as a sentence. It acknowledges the person’s experience without rewarding rudeness, and it doesn't ask them to change. It models compassion without correction. And it keeps your nervous system from getting swept up in the current.
When you speak this way, you’re listening to your own inner guidance. You’re choosing words that allow you to stay centered and aligned—rather than getting pulled into someone else’s storm.
When the Mirror Turns on You
I’ve been called entitled before. Especially on social media. Usually by people who see my identity and life as one of privilege—and they’re not wrong. I’ve had access to things others haven’t. I’ve been safe in ways others haven’t. I’ve had ease that others are still fighting for.
So when someone says, “You’re speaking from a place of entitlement,” I try—really try—to look all the way around.
It’s not easy.
My first instinct is to defend. To explain. To say, “But I didn’t mean it that way.”
But if I pause, I can sometimes see what they see. I can acknowledge the lens I speak from—and hold room for theirs too.
We’re all connected. None of us is more or less entitled to dignity, joy, or care. But we do have different starting lines. And if someone names a gap, I want to look—not to shrink in shame, but to expand in compassion.
Everyone Wants Something
At the core of entitled behavior is often a deep desire.
The person who demands more from the server? They may feel invisible in their own life and are trying to assert control somewhere—anywhere.
The friend who assumes your time? They may be scared of being abandoned and are clinging to you in the only way they know how.
None of that excuses the behavior. But it explains it.
And when we see the pain underneath the entitlement, we can soften our reaction—even if we still need to say “no.”
Staying True to Yourself
So how do we respond without losing ourselves?
Here’s what helps me:
- Name what’s happening inside you. Noticing your reaction is the first step to shifting it.
- Remember that judgment is often a sign of disconnection—from them and from yourself. You don’t have to carry it.
- Pause before you speak or act. One breath can make the difference.
- Ask, “Can I respond in love?” If not, it’s okay to wait until you can—or to walk away entirely.
- Hold both truth and kindness. You can be clear and compassionate.
A Shared Entitlement
Here’s something I believe: We are all entitled.
Not in the way we often mean when we say someone is “acting entitled.” But in a truer, deeper way.
We are all entitled to love. To dignity. To be heard. To be seen.
And when we forget that about each other, we stop listening. We stop holding space. We start labeling, and shaming, and shrinking away from connection.
But when we remember—when we meet another’s pain with grounded presence—we create a space where something new is possible.
Not compliance. Not control.
But clarity. Peace. And sometimes even healing.
Moving Forward
Entitled behavior is hard to witness. It’s even harder when we’re the target. And it’s hardest of all when we notice that judgment rising in us.
But those are the moments where we have a choice.
We can lose ourselves—or we can return to ourselves.
With breath. With love. With clarity.
That’s what I try to do. One moment at a time.
And if you're in a season where you’re dealing with people whose behavior feels overwhelming or unkind, I invite you to try something different.
HOLD is a space where you can talk freely, untangle the mess, and find your words again. We’re here to help you feel understood, not judged.
Because you matter too.