tales of a recovering people pleaser

shadow work is brutal but necessary

hello, my name is Nneoma and I am a recovering people pleaser.

I used to pride myself on being everyone’s go-to person. It didn’t matter what it was or what was going on, I would drop it all to be there. Captain Save-a-friend! I wore it like a badge of honor - one that was stitched desperately over my aching heart. If I could just make those I loved see just how much I cared they would, in turn, give me the same love and care back. It made perfect sense.

Spoiler alert - that never works. 0/10 would not recommend.

As a first daughter in a Nigerian home, I was always taught to cater to everyone else. It was always my duty to make sure everyone else was good. It taught me responsibility in ways that emphasized community and fostered a sense of belonging. At a young age, I was honored to be entrusted with such responsibility. I was important and I had a role to play. Unfortunately, that sense of responsibility took on a life of its own as I grew older. I started to put myself last and relegated myself to being the supporting character in my own life. Truly nasty business.

So what is people pleasing and what does it look like? According to Psychology Today, people-pleasing is the act of ignoring your needs to make others happy. It looks like ¹

• fear of abandonment and wanting to avoid it at all costs

• feeling anxiety about perceived abandonment

• disregarding your self-interests for others

• self-sacrificing to maintain ‘closeness’

• telling others what they want to hear to avoid conflict

• accepting invitations that you don’t want to

• challenges with advocating for your needs

• a lack of personal boundaries

• thinking you’re only accepted if you’re in service to others

• apologizing excessively to others

• rarely expressing criticism

Reading this list was a bit painful because I have been this person. I somehow thought I needed to be an afterthought to be loved. How did I even get there?

The gravity of my life as a people pleaser came about just after my 27th birthday. Some friends and I had a heart-to-heart night to celebrate. At one point, I felt such heaviness. I willed myself to sit down. The moment I sat, I became aware of all the weight I had been carrying. The newly realized reality of the weight I had been carrying felt like I was slowly sinking with every moment that passed. I remember crying out that I was constantly taking in any and everything for others, and I had nowhere to put it. I felt like an unwilling sponge that was full and desperately needed a release. I didn’t have a creative outlet. I sat for what felt like an eternity, mourning for everything and nothing in particular. I didn’t realize it at the time, but a shift had started, and this was the beginning of switching out of this mode. I soon started therapy and WHEW. Like everyone else alive, I have sustained a lifetime of *trauma* from living. It’s inevitable to exist in this world without it because we’re all flawed beings carrying all the lives we’ve lived and experienced, whether we’re conscious of it or not. I have now learned that we’re not supposed to lug everything. Erykah Badu’s Bag Lady talks of packing light through life’s journey, I finally get it.

The more I observe how stories and patterns have a way of repeating throughout this life thing, I find myself reflecting on my childhood. I spent some time living in Nigeria during my childhood. I lived there for about three years, from 4 to 7, and returned to a world I did not recognize if I tried. On my first day back in school, there I was, standing in front of my new class, petrified. I stood there feeling awkward and out of place.

“Knee-oma!”

I heard my second-grade teacher call out. I had no idea who that was and blankly stared into the faces of 7 and 8-year-olds, blinking back at me before I realized she was calling me. Dear reader, my name is Nneoma (nnoh - mah). I remember being confused and looking to my parents for something, anything. They smiled back at me, willing me to boldly take on my new class. Somehow, this was who I was here. So I reluctantly accepted it. I thought this was who I had to be accepted in this new space. This was my name for the next 23 years. Only a handful of people knew how to pronounce my name, and it became a protective cloak for me. Everyone liked Ne-oma, she was an agreeable and dependable person. As 30 came around, something shifted. Suddenly, I kept being confronted with my name and how I introduced myself. It came up everywhere - from work to the gym and everywhere. I was almost forced to confront why I introduced myself the way I did. For the first time, outside of my family and close friends, I finally introduced myself by my actual name. Honestly, I’m happy to be free of that cloak. It felt unreal how comfortable I felt moving through the world. I see that this was my way of shrinking to fit into spaces to be accepted instead of being my full self.

Therapy meant recognizing all the patterns and stories I had been carrying - knowingly and unknowingly. Seeing it all - the good, the bad, and the very ugly made it clear how all the stories you picked up affect how I moved through the world. It’s not fun, ya girl has been going through it. Therapy and all the fun shadow work that comes with it allowed me to confront and interrogate the darkest parts of my psyche and learn to sit with all my darkest parts. Sitting with all the not-so-fun parts of who I am has been an active lesson in loving all the parts of myself. I have come a long way. This process of coming back to myself has taught me to embrace all the parts of me, especially the parts that need a little extra love. In doing this, I have found that I can only be the best version of myself to others if I am the best version of myself to myself.

When thinking of this post, I began reflecting on one Joan Clayton from the show Girlfriends, played by the fabulous Tracee Ellis Ross. (It’s crazy it’s taken me this long to mention her here, and I apologize for that error on my part. It won’t happen again). She was IT! I desperately wanted to be her or at least live in her closet. She was who I envisioned myself looking like in my 30s. She was clear on what she wanted, thriving in her career, had solid-ish friendships (more on that later), and was all-around fabulous. Rewatching the show now as a 30-something, it sure is something. Almost everything about Joan makes me side-eye her. Granted, this is a show from a different time. It felt odd that a woman with such a rich life, Joan and her friends constantly lamented how single she was. I hated how who she was couldn’t be enough. Constantly. Joan was it period. This isn’t the point I wanted to make when bringing up Joan, but I cannot relate to that as someone who’s gleefully in her single era.

Joan was everyone’s go-to person. If any of her friends needed something, it was Joan’s house they’d come waltzing into. She hired Mya - who was an awful assistant, fed and housed Lynn through her countless degrees, and then there was Toni. While she was the vision of myself (aesthetically) that the younger me ever wanted to be, we get introduced to Toni when she walks into Joan’s BIRTHDAY PARTY with Joan’s ex. Toni was not a good friend at all to Joan. She was smart, beautiful, and got what she wanted, but I hate to say it, Toni constantly tap danced all over her ‘best friend’s’ boundaries throughout the series. In truth, all her friends played in her face. Remember the time Maya lied to Darnell that Joan had gotten her the Rolex for Christmas when it was Stan, her lover (?), or when Toni was using Joan’s house to meet her married lover until his wife showed up at Joan’s, or when Lynn was constantly camped out at her house. This isn’t a Joan is a perfect post - far from it. They danced all over her boundaries, but I’m not sure Joan was firm in what she needed, and in doing that, she wasn’t giving herself what she needed. She was always in service to others, which always left her depleted. I can recognize myself in her.

My first relationship was a delightful little case study in people-pleasing and so much more. At just 19, I fell wholeheartedly in love. It was magical, just like all first loves are described—we became so intertwined, and I truly adored every moment. It felt like living out a fairytale, finally experiencing what Disney had promised. He was my first love, and I eagerly shared so much of myself, excited to FINALLY have that connection (lol Now looking back, this is so cute). Hindsight is 20/20, and I completely recognize that we probably should have parted ways a lot sooner than we did. Instead, I clung on tightly, wishing we could find a way back to the once euphoric new love rush. It never went back to that, and oh how I wish I could put a hand on my younger self to let go. If I could just prove myself, it’ll all be worth it. According to Psych Central - this is a form of emotional dependency that stems from unmet psychological needs and an attempt to get that by giving to others. Baby, I held on! I guess 20-year-old me reasoned that love would never find me again. Was and is this a tad dramatic? Yes, but I will note that I am a cancer, and unfortunately for me and my sanity - I LIVE for romance. The romances I had before my brain came online reeked of people-pleasing tendencies. She just wanted to be loved, and real love meant making it work no matter what, even when it was not a healthy dynamic. You shouldn’t have to beg to be loved. I was in my Meredith Grey era - desperately pleading with emotionally unavailable men to see me. I’m not saying I’m finally healed and ready to go off into the sunset, but gone are the days of waiting for a romantic partner to see my worth. I know that I am worthy of healthy connections that don’t require feeling emotionally dependent on others to feel love.

screenshot of Grey’s Anatomy. Honestly, the look on Derek’s face makes me want to throw up for Meredith. I would sooner gnaw my way to the earth’s crust than ever beg a man to like me ever again

Being a people pleaser is selfish. The constant need to be accepted, liked, and available to everyone else leaves you giving up parts of yourself and operating from a place of lack. You’re operating as a fraction of yourself hoping to receive positive affirmation. In truth, people-pleasing has cost me friendships, opportunities, and relationships, but most importantly, it has cost me the relationship I had with myself. For a long time, I did not recognize myself as I became so used to reducing myself. I would too often mute or reduce myself to cling to a perceived idea of who I was meant to be in this relationship. I believe that I realized I didn’t recognize myself on the night of heart-to-heart. It felt as if I was performing a certain version of myself for so long that the thought of who I was was terrifying. Fighting my way back to myself has been a journey. I have been tuzzling, ok! At 31, I think I’m coming on the other side of things. Not everyone will like you, and that is ok. Do I like myself? Do I accept myself as I am? Shifting my focus from who likes me to how I feel about myself has been a drastic shift. It’s allowed me to better align with who I am, and so far, I like it over here.

Growing up means confronting all the dark parts of yourself and sitting with it. I know I’m a work in progress, and I love that. At times, it’s harder to sit with, but in doing so, it has allowed me the freedom to meet myself again. All the parts of me that I thought had silenced to be loved, the parts that I hid away thinking she was too much. I’m not saying it’s fuck everyone from now on, but instead, finding a balance in how I show up for the people in my life and the world around me and how I show up for myself. They say that the relationship that you have with the world is a reflection of the one you have with yourself. I don’t do anyone any favors by placing myself last.

It's funny to admit it, but I struggled with writing this post. It’s been about two months of starting, stopping, and lamenting over here. Recently, I have been confronted with how people-pleasing can affect a friendship. The revelation didn’t feel good. Being a friend who’s always there for others is great until you understand that never setting a boundary leaves you feeling confused, depleted, and questioning yourself. Growing from being a people-pleaser is not easy work. Choosing yourself is not a crime, it allows you to be a better person to yourself and those around you. In this season, I have found that I have been confronted with a lot of harsh truths and hard realities. I’m learning to have grace with myself as I learn from each experience, no matter how much it sucks at the moment.

Until next time,

Nneoma

P.S. You might have noticed, but I changed my newsletter name.

Introducing the indigo flame. It is inspired by the want to operate from an intuitive place in all things. I decided to rename this newsletter to something more aligned with where I’m at. This felt more like it. I’m excited to grow with you all in this space.

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1. Based on Psychology Today People Pleasing article and Psych Central’s The Psychology of People Pleasing lists