Stop People Pleasing Now. The Approval Trap: Why People Pleasing Isn't Actually Kindness

I used to think being a people pleaser made me a good person. Accommodating, caring, always there when someone needed me. I'd say yes when every cell in my body was signalling no. I'd agree when I disagreed. I'd smile when I was screaming inside.

I genuinely believed that if I could just make everyone else happy, I'd finally be worthy of love.

Turns out, people pleasing isn't kindness at all. It's fear wearing a very convincing disguise.

And it took me decades – and some pretty brutal lessons – to figure that out.

The Performance I Called Friendship

Let me tell you about one of the most painful lessons I've ever learned about people pleasing.

For years, I had a friendship group I thought genuinely cared about me. I bent over backwards for these people. I was always available, always accommodating, always ready to drop everything to help. I never rocked the boat. I never disagreed. I made myself as convenient and easy-going as possible.

Then I found out the truth: they were spending time with me just to wind me up. They found my reactions amusing. They were entertained by my struggles.

That hit different.

Not just because of their cruelty, but because of what it forced me to see: I had attracted these people by having no boundaries whatsoever. I had taught them that my needs didn't matter, that I existed to accommodate them, that they could treat me however they liked and I'd still show up, still smile, still try to please them.

People pleasing doesn't protect you from being hurt. It actually makes you a target for people who take advantage.

What I Was Really Seeking

Here's the uncomfortable truth I had to face about my people pleasing: it wasn't about being kind to others. It was about seeking approval from them.

And not just any approval – I spent my entire adult life seeking male approval specifically.

This started young. My dad didn't have much to do with us kids, so we took our cues from mum when growing up. When I became a teenager, dad tried to lay the law down but by that point it was way too late. We fought like crazy for years and I was cruel to him on occasion.

Deep down, I think I felt rejected by him.

So I spent decades trying to be the "cool girl" – the one who got along with the guys, who was welcomed into their group as an honorary lad. I thought male approval meant I was successful, worthy, enough. A lot of my behaviour as an adult was focused on trying to please and appease men, to be approved by them and welcomed into their group.

I've sought male approval my entire adult life and have seen this approval as a mark of success in life.

Here's what I know now: when you're performing for approval, you're not building real relationships. You're building transactions. "If I do this, behave this way, never rock the boat, then maybe they'll like me."

That's exhausting. And it's not love.

The Many Faces of People Pleasing

People pleasing shows up in so many ways that you might not even recognise it as people pleasing. Here's what it looked like in my life:

The automatic yes. Someone asks for help and "yes" comes out of my mouth before I've even checked whether I have the time, energy, or desire to do it. I'd commit to things without thinking, then spend days dreading them and resenting the person I'd said yes to.

The conflict avoidance. I'd rather give in than have a difficult conversation. I'd rather be uncomfortable than make someone else uncomfortable. I'd rather lose myself than lose their approval.

The emotional absorption. When someone else was upset, I'd make it my responsibility to fix their feelings. I'd absorb their moods like a sponge. If they were disappointed, I felt I'd failed them somehow.

The shape-shifting. I'd be whoever I thought people wanted me to be. Agreeable with this person, quiet with that person, enthusiastic about things I didn't care about, pretending to be someone I wasn't just to fit in.

The explanation spiral. I felt like I needed to justify every boundary, every "no," every time I wasn't available. As if my needs were only valid if I could prove they were reasonable enough.

The Biggest Mistake: Trying to Be Everything to Everyone

Looking back, I think the biggest mistake I've made in business and life is trying to be all things to all people.

You can't please all the people all the time, and some people aren't meant to be your people anyway. Simple.

But I didn't know that. I thought if I just tried hard enough, was flexible enough, accommodating enough, I could make everyone happy. I could be what everyone needed.

The result? I was burnt out, resentful, and had no idea who I actually was underneath all the performing.

People pleasing isn't sustainable because you're running on empty while everyone else takes from you. You're giving and giving and giving, but you're not being genuine – you're being strategic. You're not connecting – you're performing.

And performing is exhausting.

What People Pleasing Actually Is

Here's what I've learned: people pleasing isn't about being kind or caring or considerate. It's about control and fear.

It's about controlling how others see you. If I can just be perfect for them, they'll like me. If I never disappoint them, they'll keep me around. If I make myself indispensable, they'll need me.

It's fear of rejection dressed up as generosity. Every time I said yes when I meant no, I was really saying: "Please don't reject me. Please keep liking me. Please don't leave me."

It's dishonesty disguised as accommodation. When you're constantly people pleasing, you're lying. You're pretending you don't have needs, preferences, limits. You're teaching people that your wellbeing doesn't matter.

It's a protection strategy that doesn't actually protect you. I thought if I could keep everyone happy, I'd be safe. They'd never reject me, never hurt me, never leave me. But the opposite was true: I attracted people who took advantage precisely because I had no boundaries.

The People Who Benefited Most

Here's something nobody tells you about people pleasing: the people who react most strongly when you stop doing it are the people who were taking advantage of you.

Real friends, real family, real relationships can handle boundaries. They might be surprised when you start setting them, but they adjust. They respect your limits. They want you to take care of yourself.

The people who get angry, upset, or accusatory when you set boundaries? They were benefiting from you having none.

When I started setting limits, I discovered which relationships were genuine and which were transactional. Some people disappeared entirely. Some got angry and tried to guilt-trip me back into compliance. Some made me feel like I'd become a completely different (terrible) person.

Good. Those were the people I needed to lose.

The friends who stayed? They respected my boundaries. They appreciated knowing where they stood with me. Our relationships got stronger because they were based on authenticity, not performance.

The Guilt That Comes With Recovery

Here's what nobody warns you about when you start recovering from people pleasing: the guilt is overwhelming.

Every time I said no, I felt like a terrible person. Every time I prioritised my own needs, I felt selfish. Every time someone was disappointed in me, I felt like I'd failed at being human.

The guilt told me I was doing something wrong. That I was becoming mean, cold, selfish, uncaring.

But guilt is just fear wearing another disguise. It's the old pattern fighting to stay alive. It's your nervous system screaming "This isn't safe! They might reject you! Go back to performing!"

The guilt doesn't mean you're doing something wrong. It means you're changing patterns that needed changing.

I still feel guilty sometimes when I set boundaries. When I say no. When I disappoint someone. But I've learned to sit with the guilt instead of letting it control my behaviour. The guilt is temporary. The freedom is permanent.

What Real Relationships Actually Need

People pleasing kept me in shallow relationships because I never let anyone see the real me. How could they? I was too busy being whoever I thought they wanted me to be.

Real relationships are built on authenticity, not performance. They need:

Honesty about your limits. Not endless availability, but genuine connection when you are available.

Boundaries. Not walls, but clear guidelines about what works for you and what doesn't.

Mutual care. Not you caring for them while neglecting yourself, but both people considering each other's needs.

The freedom to disappoint each other. Because if you can't disappoint someone without the relationship ending, it wasn't a real relationship to begin with.

Your actual personality. The real you, with your preferences and opinions and limits, not the performance version designed to please.

When you stop people pleasing, you might lose some people. But the ones who stay? They love the real you, not the version you thought you had to be.

The Misunderstanding I'm Still Working Through

People think I'm really confident. They think I'm this outgoing party girl who loves being centre of attention.

I'm actually really shy. I hate being the centre of attention. I much prefer one-to-one company. And people also think I'm thick-skinned when I'm actually really sensitive.

So a lot of people have the really wrong impression about me and who I am and what I stand for.

And you know what? That's partly my fault. Because I spent so long performing, being what I thought people wanted, that they never got to see the real me.

Recovery from people pleasing means letting people see you as you actually are, even when that disappoints them. Even when they say "you've changed" (which they will). Even when they preferred the performing version because she was more convenient.

What I'm Learning About Saying No

The biggest skill I'm developing in recovery from people pleasing is saying no. Not no with a paragraph of justification. Not no with endless apologies. Just... no.

"Can you help me move this weekend?" "No, I'm not available."

That's it. That's a complete sentence. It contains all the information they need: I'm not available for this, so they need to find another solution.

But people pleasing taught me that "no" needed to come with:

• An explanation (so they'd understand)

• An apology (so they wouldn't think I was mean)

• An alternative (so they'd know I still cared)

• A justification (so they'd agree my reason was valid)

All of that is designed to manage their disappointment. To control how they see me. To make sure they still like me even though I'm saying no.

But I'm learning: their disappointment is not my responsibility to fix. My availability is not up for debate. I don't need permission to have limits.

The Freedom I'm Finding

Here's what life looks like on the other side of people pleasing:

I have actual energy for the things and people that matter. Because I'm not exhausted from performing for everyone else.

My relationships are more genuine. Because people are seeing the real me, not the performance version.

I know who my real friends are. Because the transactional relationships fell away when I stopped being endlessly available.

I feel more like myself. Because I'm not constantly shape-shifting to fit what others want.

I'm less resentful. Because I'm choosing what I say yes to instead of automatically agreeing to everything.

I'm not perfect at this. I still catch myself slipping into old patterns. I still sometimes say yes when I mean no. I still occasionally prioritise someone else's comfort over my own wellbeing.

But I notice now. And when I notice, I can choose differently.

Your Turn

If you're reading this and recognising yourself in these patterns, please know: you're not a bad person for wanting to be liked. You're not weak for seeking approval. You're not broken for finding it hard to say no.

You're human. And somewhere along the way, you learned that your value was tied to how useful you were to others, how accommodating, how convenient, how much you could endure without complaint.

But that's not true. Your worth isn't conditional on your availability. You don't have to earn love through endless giving. You're allowed to have needs, preferences, and limits.

Recovery from people pleasing starts with one honest no. Then another. Then another.

What's one thing you've been saying yes to that you actually want to say no to? What if you said it? What if you didn't explain, didn't apologise, didn't justify?

What if you just... said no?

With Love

Alex

This is the second post in my series on breaking free from patterns that keep us stuck. If you haven't read my post on perfectionism yet, go back and check that out – these two patterns often show up together, feeding off each other in ways that keep us performing instead of living.

Next week, I'll share the tool that's been essential in my recovery from both perfectionism and people pleasing: boundaries. Not the weak, apologetic boundaries that don't work, but boundaries that actually protect your wellbeing while maintaining genuine relationships.

And if you're exhausted from trying to please everyone, if you don't even know who you are underneath all the performing, I'd love to work with you. Sometimes we all need support in learning that we're loveable exactly as we are – needs, limits, and all.