When I recognised the people pleaser in me, I pulled back. I stopped overgiving, did the work and protected my energy, but what came next wasn’t relief. It was grief.
Stopping people pleasing changes how you relate to others and yourself. It often involves setting boundaries, reducing overgiving, and breaking patterns of approval-seeking behaviour. What’s less discussed is what happens after that shift.
Once I started to do the work, I became steadily aware of the time spent living around other people instead of by myself. Years of small decisions bent me in the wrong direction.
Don’t get me wrong, not all of it was false, and I enjoyed much of it. I chose some of it. But a lot of it came from that vulnerable place of needing approval, wanting things to feel smooth, and wanting to be seen and appreciated.
When that dropped away, I gained a whole load of boundaries,s but I lost a version of myself in the process.
How to Stop People Pleasing Without Losing Yourself
People-pleasing gets its fair share of airtime. But mostly, it’s reduced to behaviour, and I don’t think it is just that. Its identity and it answers questions we don’t even realise we’re asking, like…
Who am I in this room? Where do I stand with these people? What keeps things steady?
When you stop doing it, those answers completely disappear. I felt like an alien. I felt undeserving. I felt lost.
Now that I have rinsed myself of this behaviour, it’s easy to spot in others. People-pleasing doesn’t show up as one obvious trait. It wears different faces depending on the situation. You might be the approval seeker, shaping your actions around praise and validation or the one who stays busy, so you’re always needed.
You might be a peacekeeper who avoids conflict at all costs or the over-functioner who takes on everything because you can. How about the fixer who steps in before anyone even asks, or the one who adapts themselves depending on who you’re with?
All different versions of the same shiz.
The worst thing about it all was that my attention was constantly on other people, and I’d completely adjust myself to stay accepted, useful, or safe.
For the sake of this moment, I will just agree/do it/say it …Meh!
I think of Rachel in Friends, who basically shapes herself around approval. Family, relationships, work. ..She overextends, avoids difficult truths, and bends over backwards to stay accepted. Being a Friends addict, I watched her growth arc -basically learning to stand in her own decisions without needing any reassurance.
Carrie Bradshaw is another great example! Another Gen X classic TV series depicting this generational disease. She knows better most of the time. She still goes back, still over-gives emotionally, still negotiates herself down to keep the connection. That loop with Big is a textbook case of approval-seeking dressed up as lurrrrve.
There’s loads of research on this. Patterns linked to people-pleasing sit inside what psychology calls agreeableness and approval-seeking behaviours. It’s all tied to belonging and safety, not just a weird habit we pick up.
When we change any behaviour, we unsettle the system underneath it, and that’s mostly why it feels like we’ve lost something.
Knowing the difference between helping and people pleasing is a game-changer
After the initial shift, something happened that I didn’t expect.
Years later, and once I got to the point where I felt confident ‘staying in my own lane’ (the old Andrea may have jumped in to help, add an opinion, or take over), I started to question my actions. Have I gone too far the other way? Am I being supportive or avoiding?
I was in a period of adjustment. I wanted to understand how to balance this thing out.
When do I start helping again? Because I didn’t stop caring. I just stopped abandoning myself.
There’s a difference, but it’s not obvious at first.
What I learned.
Helping isn’t the issue. Losing yourself inside the help’ is.
I believe that humans are here to serve. This was probably the sole reason I found it so difficult to wean myself away from people-pleasing in the first place.
Helping others supports our well-being when it’s voluntary. When it comes from pressure or obligation, it links to burnout and resentment. So the behaviour isn’t the problem, it’s the driver behind it.
In other words…if the help is coming from anxiety, approval-seeking, or fear of conflict, it costs you. If it’s chosen, it doesn’t.
Now, my offers of help look like this…
Ahh, the clarity moment when I figured this out.
The work isn’t to stop giving. It’s to stay present while you give.
I started to feel the difference in my gut if I paid attention. Old Andreas's pp style had an urgency about it. I had to respond quickly, and had this overarching sense of ‘should’.
New Andrea had space to see how she felt about a situation. I could choose, say no, and nothing inside me felt like it was going to implode.
Space to hear your intuition is key here, people. That’s where a good Metox session comes in.
It’s the only reliable signal we have as humans, and we don’t use it properly.
Here’s Some Fodder For Your Metox
When you sit down for your monthly check-in, focus on something you’ve been asked to do and pause before agreeing. which might look like: ‘Can I get back to you?’ or ‘Give me a minute to process this.’ Even a little delay in response breaks the old reflexes.
Then become aware of what doing the thing might cost you. If there’s pressure, resentment, or fatigue, something is not right.
Then, ask yourself - and this is a biggy - ‘What am I expecting back?' Is it approval? closeness? being seen or heard? If that’s in the mix, Houston - we have a problem!
Let people deal with their own lives. That includes watching things unfold without stepping in.
Redefine "help" for yourself, because it doesn’t always mean doing something. We can talk it through properly in a session if you want to explore further.
Coming out the other side…You Don’t Go Back
I used to worry that once I started helping again, I’d slide straight into the old version of myself - but that version of Andrea didn’t have the awareness I have now.
I’m still learning. I’m sure I will overstep again, but I will make damn sure I correct myself. I think this is part of it all. All the learning. The movement back and forth, these are not signs we’re relapsing. It’s how we find our new edges.
It’s an ongoing practice, but now, when opportunities to lend a hand arise, I tend to ask myself;
‘Can I stay in my own lane while I help?’