Things I’ve learned about people pleasing | Life transitions
I wanted to write a post about my transition out of the space that I loved, the place where I had found community and acceptance after a long time without it. I wanted to own my part as a people-pleaser, and how that affected me in this group. It took me a long time to be able to articulate the lessons amidst the grieving, the loss of this place where I had felt so seen.
The biggest realization was I didn’t know that I believed love and acceptance were only given when I was DOING. Instead of love and acceptance being given just for who I am - just for BEING.
And how common this belief is for people pleasers.
And how much resentment really does get behind that when we give and give for the comfort of the other without regard to ourselves. And that the paradox is that it’s not true giving unless you know your limitations. That you can’t trust a yes from someone who can’t say no.
So I’ve learned to be more aware of my body cues - sitting over and over with the discomfort of the first emotions that pop up and asking myself what is underneath these initial feelings. And then underneath those. Until I can get to a place where I can react without the emotion interfering in the communication.
And I learned about boundaries. How to have them and how to honor them.
A concept that didn’t exist in our pop-culture lexicon when I was growing up. I was taught to say yes. Always. And told to not be in situations where I would need to say no.
“Just don’t be there!” The adults in my life would say, I think, referring to intimate moments with men, but there are so many moments in life where saying no is crucial - work, friends, family.
And, the road to being intimate is paved with small no’s. And if I couldn’t say no to the small infractions, the door to the big no’s wasn’t so far away. Especially if I was taught my only option was avoidance.
Now, the other thing I had to learn in this context was that I’m not the victim. I didn’t understand that I didn’t know how to tell a different internal story. That I always have had a choice, so there is no one to “blame”. I had to learn to take responsibility for the things I said, even if I said them from a people-pleasing lens. Even (especially) if I said them when my nervous system was on overdrive, and even if I didn’t mean them when I could come back and connect to my rational mind.
But I had to understand this - all of it - including its origins, to be able to change it.
I had to understand that saying no felt terrifying because I was so conflict-averse. Because I had seen that saying no meant I lost people over and over. Because it was something new to my nervous system.
And I had to say no in those moments anyway.
And for the attachment piece, I had to learn that just because I may share vulnerable words with another person, it doesn’t shortcut time and mutual growth in a relationship. It can actually look or feel manipulative to the other side if the vulnerability isn’t welcomed or consented to.
But I didn’t know this when I joined this group. I just knew that I was having like-minded conversations with people for the first time in a long time, and getting lots of validation because I was new.
I hadn’t yet observed the cycles of how new people were briefly exalted because the community was so small. Exclusive by design or circumstance, I don’t know.
I just know that it was heady. The dopamine hits felt powerful.
And, I loved what we were creating. The accomplishment of the first art day - looking out across a room full of humans creating non-traditional art. That felt great! It fulfilled a part of my soul I didn’t know was missing. A need I didn’t know I had.
But the expectation to repeat that over and over, seemingly for community, started to get exhausting. And behind the exhaustion was resentment, not that I knew it as that yet.
And there was no one driving this besides myself. I was truly afraid that if I stopped, I would not be needed anymore. And if I wasn’t needed, I wouldn’t be loved. And perhaps that was the self-fulfilling prophecy I unconsciously created.
For old feelings of exclusion started to creep in, old feelings of not truly understanding social currency. “But these new-new people are getting likes without doing!” I wondered, angrily. An emotion out of proportion to the statement.
And the constant barrage of people interacting, and feeling as if I had to keep up - the feeling that used to give me the dopamine high - it was now battering an overstimulated nervous system.
One that had been acting in a dance that wasn’t natural, but was built on steps I saw others do, and adapted through my own interpretation.
I thought it was fine, except when I missed a step, then another. I truly lost the ability to communicate because I didn’t know what I was supposed to say.
And it felt like anything I was saying was now making others feel uncomfortable.
So I went dark. I even blocked people for fear that I could somehow avoid my hurt by doing that. That somehow that act would be interpreted as “no, but I’ll be back”, but without the words. (Spoiler alert - it was not.)
All I could do was turn off the stimuli and lean into my own overwhelm. Slowly thinking about what had happened. Constantly asking myself questions. I tried to come back, a few times, full force! I tried to act “normal”, and then when that failed spectacularly, me continuing to misunderstand because of the obscure things that would trigger my nervous system in this heightened state, I tried to tip-toe back in, but still found my hard-earned everyday real-life peace disturbed in a way that wasn’t sustainable.
I wanted to ask the group for help - what was I doing wrong? How could I change?
But I understood, finally, that that was part of the problem. That I was looking for outside validation for something I needed to be sure of inside myself. That I hadn’t come in with an identity that was secure enough to withstand the changes that happen in groups. That I hadn’t yet understood that not everyone would like me no matter what I did, no matter how much DOING I did.
I didn’t understand that people pleasing was tacked on to my identity, like an epigenetic tag on DNA. But it wasn’t my identity. It wasn’t who I was. Or it wasn’t who I wanted to be.
People pleasing was a reaction. Sometimes a trauma response, and in those moments involuntary. But it could change. I could change how I react.
Slowly, and honestly, painfully. For when the nervous system is involved, new things - new choices - feel scary. Even when the mind is aware that the new choices are better. The nervous system will always choose what is familiar. I had to feel all these feelings to get to the other side.
And even when steered firmly another way, the nervous system will resist. Over and over. Even pop up when you think you’ve “got it” to remind you this was not the way it learned to do it - the way it learned (wrongly, but earnestly) to keep you safe. Only by repetition and emotion will the big ship of learning new reactions be turned. Slowly.
So what’s next?
I don’t know, even making this public was fraught with emotions - will some people misunderstand? Probably. Will some people resonate? Hopefully. Is it worth it to be authentic to myself? Definitely.
Last night, I thought of jumping on late and trying to start an innocent convo in the virtual space with people who may have been awake. I even had talking points pulled from my special interests - a new supernova in a nearby spiral galaxy that is bright enough to be seen! - or - Why are Elon Musk’s SpaceX rockets QUITE so phallic? 🤔 And then I would be gone by morning, when the “Hello Ralph’s” of normal group banter would begin. When the anxiety of who had a story about me, and who doesn’t, gets very loud in my head.
Because I was sad/lonely. And isn’t the best use of this technology to reach out across divides and share common things? I loved the discussions that would pull many people in. Except that’s also where I would get tripped up. In all this connectedness, I thought I saw moments where people were left behind, and I didn’t want that to happen. Except I didn’t ask their permission if they needed someone to “help”, and I was choosing to “help” others without checking in on my own tank first.
And because I didn’t ask, when my tank was beyond empty, and my little inner child was at the wheel, pouting that he/she/they didn’t “like” her, very much in the victim mode, and totally discounting that she may have hurt others too. 🙉 Then those covert people-pleasing contracts came out. Ones I didn’t even know I had!
“But I was nice to them, I did this (whatever perceived this was) why wouldn’t they be nice to me back?” I thought, irrationally. Why wouldn’t they “defend” me? Why wouldn’t these acquaintances take a public stand for me in a “battle” no one could see but my nervous system, finding DANGER in all of it? (I say that totally tongue-in-cheek now that I can access my logical mind, but these were real questions at that moment to that wounded inner child.)
Now, in the moments when my logical adult self came back online, I could be rational and did a lot of introspection. Therapy, particularly internal family systems and talking to my inner child and inner teenager, helped me in other moments. And setting up an ongoing dialogue with those parts was crucial so I could be aware sooner of what may be hurting, or where I may be self-abandoning, so I could correct before I crossed my own boundaries.
So, last night, knowing all of this, instead of jumping into a space where I am still unsure of reactions, I just felt my feelings. I laid in the dark and felt my feelings. It was scary. It was uncomfortable. And, I got to the other side. I found that the loneliness melted away, sometimes only for a moment, then for longer stretches, when I started to understand I could trust myself. That I could be with myself and my emotions.
Now some of these group dynamics truly are still a mystery to me. Some parts still feel like I am a social anthropologist looking at other humans and wondering WHY would they make the decisions they do. And is it me or them that is “bad” for doing it differently? And does it matter?
I have learned that kind of binary thinking (good-bad) is a trait of neurodiverse that some people have to varying degrees, and being able to remember that most things are not binary, that most things are nuanced and come in every shade of grey is helpful to remember. And that I’m often not the only one who feels left out. That, sometimes, the ones who appear the most engaged often feel differently inside. And, most importantly, no one likes to have hard conversations. And avoidance - something that both baffles me AND I have done (especially when overstimulated and disassociated) - is preferable than explaining to one person why the other may not “like” them. Even (especially) if asked.
I have learned that what I thought was a social currency of trying to understand who is who to who in groups is actually a form of trauma and ultimately not in alignment with my values of letting people be who they are, with total autonomy and freedom to change. But, also, understanding that walking into a room full of people - virtually or otherwise - and NOT understanding the social standings is really scary to my nervous system.
So the biggest lesson was that, when entering a new metaphorical “room”, it’s more authentic to me for me to be quiet and observe, instead of the learned way I had of jumping in and asking “Where can I help?” so that I could unconsciously “guarantee” I would be “liked”. It’s more authentic for me to ask people their stories rather than trying to figure them out indirectly. To see where, and if, “help” is needed.
It does feel like most people understand that the “observe, ask questions, then help” sequence is better for lasting group dynamics and friendships - the place I would ultimately like to be. But somewhere, I had learned differently.
I did realize all of this was valuable because community is important to me. Not only as a value, but as a need. To balance my moments of extreme introverting with group activities - like-minded people working towards a shared goal is something that enriches my life. Having that balance allows me to be grateful for the mundane that we all encounter. Knowing that I have that balance allows me to be in the present moment, whether it’s folding laundry or participating in a fantasy photoshoot.
And maybe that’s the perpetual “what’s next” for me, that I will always be learning, I will always be striving for balance, and that I’m grateful for the awareness.
And because learning means remembering, if I have the chance to be “new” again, I made up this list for how to communicate going forward - both in groups and in interpersonal relationships:
Knowing how to say NO is important, and takes practice.
Challenging my own thoughts is crucial - especially before I react.
Approval has to come from within. Otherwise, it will never be “enough”.
I have no control over how other people perceive me.
Pray for surrender to what is, rather than for immediate change.
Keep your long-term goals in mind, but release the outcome to how they arrive.
Slow and steady change helps my nervous system to catch up. Jumping in because of impatience and hoping it will “work out” often does not.*
Emotions are slower to integrate than logic. I may “know it” long before I “feel it” instinctively.
Asking questions and being curious about other people, and being discerning with vulnerability is part of being secure in my communication.
I am not a victim, I create my reality. I take accountability for my actions knowing the only thing I can change is myself.
Boundaries keep me safe.
Knowing my needs vs. my wants is crucial in communicating boundaries.
Overexplaining is a trauma response. As is oversharing.
*I have a few clues when I need to slow down:
When I want to react IMMEDIATELY!
When I feel I “need” something right now!
I’ve learned those are the moments to practice surrender and acceptance of what is. Moments to ground, journal, and look for the birds in the sky. Those are the moments to disengage from other people and go inward to find out what my body is trying to tell me. Then, when I can communicate slowly, to go back to the table with other people, and talk, dance, play, BE.
I hope maybe some of my lessons will help you too. ❤️
Images by me, Moon Rae Portraits
