The Poison of People-Pleasing Pt. 2
With my history as a recovering people-pleaser in mind, I want to say something about my voice. You could replace the word “voice” with authentic self-expression. The problem, of course, is that while I was people-pleasing, I believed that I was already expressing my authenticity. I genuinely believed most of the stories I was telling myself. They were the kinds of stories I hear people tell themselves all the time:
I love everyone.
I don’t get angry.
I’m a hard worker.
I’m a good person, etc.
They were all stories that were, to some degree, true. But they were also not true. Do I love everyone? Hmmm. It’s a scary question. I definitely don’t feel love towards everyone. In fact, some peoples’ behaviors disgust me. Some people even make me angry. However, expressing anger might rock the boat and sabotage my people-pleasing agenda. So I learned to suppress it and maintain the image of an affable, all-embracing good guy. It was a lie. A lie I mostly told myself - a people-pleasing strategy. It’s called delusion, and the unfortunate reality is that when we lie to ourselves, we end up lying to everyone.
Like unearthing a boulder buried in the hard soil, it takes relentless spiritual work to dig up the stories we have told ourselves. It also takes courage because this kind of spiritual work hurts. A lot. Yet, I see it as a necessary, and even holy, process of pursuing freedom. Nowadays, I’m using my voice in completely new ways. I’m still learning, and I suspect I will make mistakes. However, I no longer feel the nagging self-doubt I used to feel when I was living a lie. I now speak with more clarity and I don’t worry about the waves I make by taking up space with my perspectives.
Some will say I’m being too hard on myself. “You are a good person, Joel! Stop beating yourself up!” I agree with them. But the work I’m doing isn’t self-flagellation. It’s self-emancipation. I’m removing ancient, rusty armor that has fused to my body. It stings to pull it off. It’s scary to feel the sun on my bare skin. Yet, strangely, saying yes to vulnerability and self-compassion fuels me these days. And this bolsters me for my greatest fear coming true: some people will not like me.
I still find it uncomfortable. But I’m getting used to it. :)