You have become very good at reading rooms. You adjust. You soften. You hold back the parts of yourself that might create friction. You say yes and feel the quiet resentment settle in.
Being liked by everyone requires being different things to different people. Which requires not quite being yourself anywhere.
The cost of universal approval is the gradual erosion of identity. Not dramatically. Slowly. You stop knowing what you actually think separate from what you are supposed to think. You stop expressing preferences because preferences risk disappointing someone. You become a surface that reflects what others want to see.
What you lose is harder to name. The sense of being known. The relief of not having to monitor every response. The relationships that are real because both people are present.
Being liked for who you actually are is worth more than being liked by everyone for who you are not. But it requires the risk of being seen. And some people will not like what they see. That is the price of being real.