Dear People-Pleaser: A Love Letter

Dear People-Pleaser,

I know how it feels. When your lover rolls their eyes at your anxiety, gets agitated at your needs, says every conflict is the result of your “too muchness.” You feel ashamed and certain that the problem is you. And so you shrink. And shrink. And shrink.

I know how it feels. When others ask for more help, more time, more money, and before the request has left their lips you’ve already said yes (resentfully). How can they keep asking without reciprocating? How can they not see all that you’re giving?

I know how it feels. When a friend or a date talks at you like a sounding board, using you as a mirror, a therapist, a prop in their own self-centered story. It would be rude to interrupt or to leave, you think, and so you stay, listening painfully, feeling more and more invisible with every passing minute.

I know how it feels. When their toxic behavior is a familiar black cloud in the foyer, around the dinner table, in the family room. And you laugh at their cruel jokes and nod along with their harsh judgments, smiling wide while inside, you wither.

I know how it feels. When your body doesn’t feel like your own, not really, and you enter interactions with lovers feeling slightly off-kilter, slightly insecure, wondering: What if they ask for it, and I don’t want to give it? Will I have the strength to be honest? Or will I abandon my body and go someplace else, again?

I know how it feels. When time in your own company feels like a foreign land to be avoided at all costs. I know the tug of alcohol, dating apps, TV for hours, anything to take the edge off the pain of not having a “self” to come home to.

I know how it feels.

And I want you to know that even though you can’t sense it right now —
even though it feels unbearably distant and downright impossible⁠—
this is what your future holds:

There will come a day when a loved one does something that hurts you and you don’t even think twice. You will tell them, confidently, without second-guessing: “That hurt me.” And you won’t feel guilty, or “too much,” or afraid they’ll abandon you. You will feel self-protective confidence and certainty that you deserve better.

There will come a day when you interact with a lover and notice how comfortable, how present, how in-your-body you feel. You won’t be performing for them, faking overconfidence for them, trying to “win them over.”

You will be…. You. And when you kiss? You will feel an ocean of confidence in your core that you’re in the driver’s seat, and if you want to stop, you will say so, without guilt. Your body and mind are on a team this time, protecting you and keeping you safe.

There will come a day when a friend will do something that makes you feel unseen, and instead of running—like you always used to do—you will address it. You will talk it through. It will be uncomfortable, yes, but when it’s over, you will be grateful that you didn’t throw away this connection like so many before it. You will feel the unfamiliar stability and intimacy of long-standing friendships that have successfully weathered difficult times.

There will come a day when someone asks you to volunteer on a project or give money to a cause, and you will simply say, “No thank you.” The ghost of your past self will stand there, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, as you walk away without offering a waterfall of explanations or justifications.

There will come a day when you feel comfortable being picky about who you let into your inner circle. You will look around at your closest friends and confidantes and realize, with wonder: I get just as much out of these connections as I give. Your relationships will no longer be propelled by guilt, obligation, self-sacrifice, or hidden resentments. Instead, you will feel care, love, and genuine respect for the people you’ve let into your heart.

There will come a day when the voices of self-judgment, self-punishment, and self-criticism will feel like distant echoes. Sometimes, you will spontaneously say to yourself aloud: “I’m proud of you.” When a relationship ends or a heartbreak occurs, you will wrap your arms around your body in a havening hug, and you will mean it when you say: “I’ve got you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

This is what we’re waiting for.
This is what we’re working towards.
This is why we do this work of healing.

I know it feels uncomfortable and impossible now (trust me, I know, I’ve been exactly there) but there will come a day when you sit alone, journaling or just sipping coffee, and you’ll realize, suddenly, that you like who you are.

Not just because of how much you’ve healed or what you’ve accomplished, but also because of your imperfections, anxieties, and fears.

You have come to hold all of the parts of you gently.

You will no longer believe you need to eradicate the “hard parts” in order to be deserving of love.

Ready to arrive there? Work with me one-on-one in private coaching to break the people-pleasing pattern and master the art of speaking your truth.