One of my core memories as a child is watching my mom cry. She didn’t cry because she was weak. In fact, she is one of the strongest women I know. She cried because she was heartbroken. My brother either loved her or hated her. He said horrific things to her and repeatedly shared how he longed to see her suffer so he could just laugh. I watched him tear every person in the house down so he could get power. My mom got it the worst.
As a result, I learned at a young age to people please. You see, when you’re in a home where you watch people you love being torn down daily, you learn quickly that you don’t want to add to the pain.
Instead of adding to the pain, I learned to be the sweet, nurturing daughter who was there for everyone else. I never got in trouble and tried my hardest not to disappoint. I never wanted to be a source of my mamma’s tears. Instead, I learned to be strong, helpful, and a workaholic. I learned to get value by staying busy.
You see, living in a home where you feared dying caused a lot of emotional turmoil. I didn’t do well in school, and I often picked my friends based on the level of help they needed from me. If I wasn’t needed, I struggled to have value.
When I met my husband, he needed me. I was out to rescue him. He actually rescued me. He didn’t allow me to be a people pleaser. In fact, it drove him crazy.
He often told me, “The only end beneficiary of people pleasing is yourself.” Was he calling me selfish? To be honest, he was, because pleasing others is an attempt to control the experience of negative emotions.
The beginning of my marriage was the beginning of healing for me. I could not fool this man. He knew every piece of me, and therefore, I needed to heal.
How do you get out of the trap of people pleasing? Ask yourself who the end beneficiary of your pleasing is. Are you being your authentic self? What are you afraid of when it comes to being yourself?
Once you become honest with yourself, you can begin healing. Honesty is where I had to start.
Once I was honest with myself, I was able to give myself a break. It was exhausting working all the time. It was a habit I developed around the age of 11. I found meaning in staying busy.
I had to learn to be my authentic self, which meant speaking the truth, advocating for myself, and learning it’s okay to say no. It’s okay to have a desire and express it. It’s okay to just be me.
You can heal.
You can grow.
You can learn to be a force to be reckoned with.
I am that woman now.
When was the first time I took a step back and was okay with not pleasing others? I remember this moment as clearly as if it were yesterday.
My husband, when we met, was a youth pastor. We started off in Detroit, MI, and then moved to Fairfax, VA, where he took on the roles of athletic director, Bible teacher, and soccer coach. You have heard his stories of abuse, and coupled with my life story, we were magnets for controlling leaders. The pastor who employed us called us his sheep and demanded that we all obey him. Joe and I decided to stand up to him one day, and as a result, he fired us and our friends. After leaving us jobless and afraid, he called us back to his office and offered us our jobs back. We had served our consequence, and he felt he had successfully instilled enough fear in us to keep us in line.
I will never forget how he went around the table and asked each of us if we wanted our jobs back. My husband said yes. Our friends said yes. He got to me, and I said no. I went on to share with him exactly what I thought about him and his church. My husband was in shock. He had never met this woman before. That day did something for me. It taught me that it’s okay to stand up for yourself and your family. It’s okay to have an opinion. It’s okay to have a voice.
Things for me didn’t change overnight. But that day ignited something in me. It was the beginning of healing the wounded child inside me. The woman I was becoming no longer had to please everyone.
It was a journey. We’re all on a journey.
You see, it’s not just about what happened to you. It’s about how you choose to respond to what happened.
Tomorrow is always a new day. It’s never too late to learn, grow, or change.
