On people pleasing
My struggle with self acceptance
Dear Stranger,
I care about what other people think. Everybody does. But for me this turned into an unhealthy obsession. I wanted other people to like, love and admire me. To envy me without wanting to tear me down. I was addicted to it, driven insane by the want. In short, I was a people pleaser.
Being a people pleaser means that I was nice to appear good. I pretended to have no boundaries, that I wanted to fulfil every request. I felt unlovable and thought that I had to compensate for my inherent inadequacy. I never expected this from others. They were surely lovable as a person. Love could be freely given to everybody else, but I needed to earn it. I didn‘t like doing it, I just didn’t want to be lonely.
Recovery started once I realised that I wore a mask. I was drenched in lies. My lifestyle was unsustainable. All I wanted was for people to love me but they only tolerated my persona. I knew that if I continued, I would be miserable, and probably have no guests at my funeral. I‘d have become a second Gatsby but instead of Daisy’s love, I’d have sought society’s admiration. I didn't want this.
To change my ways, I had to find out who I actually was. Reset to default settings and carve a new character. I had to develop social skills that went beyond pantomiming a doormat, find people who liked me for me, and recalibrate my intuitions. To my surprise, no bomb went off when I began saying no. I didn't turn into a Disney villain after setting a boundary, as my singing skills remain subpar. Although I did feel like a badass.
It’s important to note that people pleasing only could arise because I am also a giver, which is in itself positive. I love loving people. I receive immense satisfaction out of delighting others, more than if I‘d receive that enjoyment myself. There exists the danger of eradicating that genuine desire if you get rid of people pleasing. To become burnt-out givers. The impulse itself is good and desirable. The corruption of that drive is what’s harmful.
You draw people in that are similar to you in some way, and through time, you shape and carve each other, bit by bit. Which means lately, I saw many of my own behaviour in the people closest to me - and I hated it.
Sometimes it‘s endearing to find out how similar you are to your loved ones. To notice the little tribe you created in this immense world. I see myself in my mom‘s texting style, how she‘s sometimes clueless but got the spirit and her willingness to help. I see myself in my father’s sarcastic, dry humor, in his walk, and determination. And I see myself in my brother‘s ambition, passion, and how he vividly gesticulates when he talks. At the same time, I fear that I’ll repeat the same mistakes my parents did. I promised myself to learn from their example by being completely unlike them. Now that I see that impossibility, I’m scared I might share their negative traits too. I always wanted to flee from them, in the worst case leaving the country. If I could be as far away from them as possible, I would dodge their fate. Of course, it was always only a fantasy. With the internet, the past can always haunt you. I didn’t realise that even if I could escape, even if I would never see them again, I could never outrun my parents because I will always be their child.
The most annoying behaviours where the ones I possess too. I projected my own insecurities onto my loved ones. When I then saw my reflection in others, it reminded me of the fact that I still hate myself. I don't consciously dislike myself. In fact, I actually thought I was awesome. The problem is that I didn’t say that to my actual self. I instead created an alter ego and deluded myself into believing this person was already reality. I was pissed of when noticing the similarities because they shattered that fake idea of myself. I had been branded a liar, if only to myself.
Now I see that self-acceptance and overcoming people pleasing is an ongoing struggle. Once you receive the feeling of being desired or admired, you're hooked. It’s the love you always craved but never got. I know the problem but have no idea how to solve it. So I beat myself up for not loving myself enough.
I yearn to make a mark on this world. I want people to look at me and think that there’s something different about this person. I want to make them think, question their opinions, and let them change for the better. I want to meet somebody and to leave them with slightly more joy, slightly more energy, slightly more hope. In short, I want to be special, which is in itself an entirely ordinary desire. The difference is that I truly believe I can achieve this. I am not yet great, but I know that I possess the potential, the raw skill and talent, to truly become great. That probably sounds obnoxious like all the youtubers impersonating manic pixie dream girls or pick me girls in shorts. “I’m different and quirky (weird but got pretty privilege).” I’m not taking this back though. I know that if I don’t harness the potential, nothing will come out of it. I also know I have the drive and ambition to succeed. My overarching goal is to recall my life on my deathbed and be proud of it. I want to proclaim that I’ve truly lived and done my best. I’ve binge-watched way to many videos from that sad turtle on youtube to let go of that, it‘s baked into me.1 I will be great, and I will succeed because I must.
Will self-acceptance once become a given? Will my inclination towards people pleasing vanish totally at some point? I doubt it. There are probably some lucky motherfuckers out there who can achieve that but I’m not one of them. I’m no advocate for self-loathing. This makes you miserable and I don’t like jerks. It doesn‘t matter if the behaviour is directed at others or yourself, both is jerkish. From where do you take the audacity to assume there is something so special about you that only you deserve punishment?
Maybe balance is not the goal to strive for. It’s instead being able to switch between extremes and hold up the paradox. I‘m completely okay with me and I need to drastically improve. Trying to mix both positions only resulted in being fully committed to neither. Instead of convulsively attempting to reconcile the tension, I simply accept it. The same way a quantum physicist might look at a table and think it‘s a concrete, whole object while also knowing it‘s a collection of quarks and void in a four-dimensional, curved space, to give a simplistic description. Both are true.2 Of course, I might get stuck in one mode, more probably the self-improvement mode, but I am comfortable with accepting that risk. I’d rather be Icarus than never fly at all.
Best wishes,
Somebody
https://www.youtube.com/@Exurb1a (that channel)
