Personal Admissions

"The People-Pleasing That Nearly Erased Me"

I said yes to hosting Thanksgiving dinner while crying in my car.

My sister called, asking if I could take hosting duties, as her kitchen reno was running behind. I knew I was overwhelmed with work, behind on deadlines, barely keeping my own life together. I knew I didn't have the time, energy, or desire to cook for twelve people.

"Of course!" I heard myself say, keeping my voice cheerful, while tears streamed down my face. "I'd love to!"

I'd become a person who said yes with her mouth while every cell in her body screamed no. A person who prioritized everyone else's comfort over her own well-being, who measured her worth by how helpful she could be, how little trouble she caused, how much she could sacrifice for others' happiness.

I thought people-pleasing was kindness. I was proud of being low-maintenance, accommodating, the one you could count on to be flexible. I never made waves, caused conflict or asked for too much. I was easy to love because I made it so convenient.

But people-pleasing isn't kindness—it's self-abandonment with better marketing.

I’d become a human pretzel, twisting myself into whatever shape others needed me to be. I lost track of my own preferences, my own boundaries, my own voice. I didn't know what I actually wanted because I'd spent so long wanting what other people wanted me to want.

The Thanksgiving dinner was a disaster. The food was fine, the family was happy, everyone had a lovely time. The disaster was me—exhausted, resentful, and completely depleted by my own inability to say no. I hosted a beautiful dinner while feeling like a ghost at my own table.

That night, washing dishes alone while everyone else watched football, I realized I had built my entire personality around being agreeable. Traded my authenticity for approval, my needs for others' comfort, my truth for their peace. I’d become so good at being what everyone else needed that I'd forgotten how to be myself.

The recovery from people-pleasing is awkward and uncomfortable. 

Learning to say no feels selfish at first, even when you're saying no to things that drain and diminish you. 

Setting boundaries feels mean, even when those boundaries protect your well-being. 

Disappointing people feels catastrophic, even when their disappointment is unreasonable.

But I've learned that people-pleasers don't actually please people. We create relationships based on performance, not authenticity. We attract people who benefit from our inability to set limits, and we repel people who would love us for who we really are. We think we're being kind, but we're actually being dishonest—with others and with ourselves.

• Real kindness sometimes looks like disappointing people. 

• Real love sometimes requires conflict. 

• Real relationships can handle your nos, your needs, your imperfect humanity. 

I'm learning to check in with myself before responding to requests. Now I pause between the ask and the answer. I practice saying "let me think about it" instead of immediately agreeing. I remember my needs matter as much as anyone's, not more, but certainly not less.

I didn't host Christmas dinner last year. I said no kindly but firmly, and suggested alternatives. The world didn't end. My family didn't disown me. In fact, someone else stepped up eagerly, grateful for the opportunity.

Turns out, people-pleasers aren't as indispensable as we think we are. And that's actually the most freeing discovery of all.

We recommend checking this book out:

Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate, we earn a commission when you click the link and finalize a purchase (At zero cost to you.). We participate in programs like these to help keep DailyMotivation free!