2019: over and out
21-year-old brunette. Bit dorky but means well. In search of hypnotist / withdrawal patch / support group to kick the ultimate crippling bad habit: people-pleasing.
No need to roll your eyes, people-pleasing cannot be brushed off with a “you’re too nice” label, forgotten about and promptly walked over. I mean is it even possible to be too kind? Truth be told, I’ve worn it like a badge of honour, justifying emotionally unhealthy habits under the safety and comfort of the “people-pleasing” banner.
Simply put, a sore fact that most people pleasers won’t tell you; being a people pleaser is not about being nice at all, it’s about being liked. This time it’s really not you, it’s me.
Trust me, I’m one of the guilty. I have a compulsive need to be liked. Don’t misunderstand me here, I have diligent and attentive parents don’t get me wrong that have always tried to teach me good manners- hold the door for people, pour their drinks first, only swear under your breath when someone is rude to you and not directly in their face. You know, the basics. Like any of you I imagine, I consider myself to be a good person. I think I’m kind. I donate to charities when I can, I’d run after a baby in a pram that was flying dramatically down a steep hill towards a speeding car- all the usual kind of benchmarks. Then I think about how many times I’ve used the word ‘I’ in the last paragraph or in my endless series of blog posts for that matter. Suddenly, I’ve bought an Italian dictionary like I’m Julia Roberts in Eat Pray Love.
I think I’ve convinced myself that I’m allergic to the word ‘No’. Like I would come out all red and blotchy should the word even pass my lips once. People Pleasing appears harmless- all you want is for people to like you- how damaging can that be? For the most part, not harmful in the least unless your friends are Vladimir Putin or Donald Trump. Like any vice; smoking, drinking, binge-watching episodes, the line between treat and addiction becomes blurry the deeper you allow yourself to go.
The amount of times I’ve ended up played the role of the designated free-therapist, I could almost pay for an actual series of professional therapy appointments which after taking on everyone else’s emotional trauma on a regular basis I have more than earned. I’ve repeatedly given up time, effort and money that I didn’t have to make someone happy. Cue the violins, am I right? Well, there is a difference between friendship and operating as their personal therapist firstly. A conversation over a coffee to vent our frustrations back and forward is one thing but repeatedly being the one at the other end of someone’s drama is another. I want to be clear, this is nobody’s fault but my own. I desperately want to help and if someone needs me I’ll do just about anything to make that happen. I quickly develop Wonder Woman like strength, I’d scale burning buildings and fight treacherous evil villains just so that you can complain about your day. Well, almost.
It’s something I’ve discovered about myself over the last few years and while empathy is a strength, there are times that we let it go too far. I think that’s partly why my depression took hold in the first place. I remember seeing a sign in one of my primary school classrooms:
“I can only please one person a day. Today, is not your day and tomorrow doesn’t look good either”
I used to hate that sign. I never understood it. It struck me as selfish and narrow minded. I almost saw it as a challenge. You say I can’t please more than one person a day? Try me. I always was a competitive child. It’s only looking at myself and those destructive habits over the last year have I seen value in it. I’m not going to say I’ll go as far as getting a sign like that because it still makes me cringe outwardly but I will concede that if we don’t take time for ourselves, how are we ever going to support those around us? Which is something we could all think a little more about.
I’ve been writing my blog(s) for a year now, can you believe it? I honestly can’t comprehend how different my life is from this time to a year ago. I was deeply unhappy and if I’m honest, I’m not always happy now. I guess no one is completely.
To combat this unhappiness, as you might remember, I set myself a resolution of learning to run and completing a half marathon. I remember laughing at the challenge at the time, I knew myself a little too well it seems. Honestly, I stuck it out for quite a while and I actually really enjoy running- the exercise was great for my mood and sense of self worth. Not to mention, I discovered how much I love to write again. However, I think challenging myself to do something so extreme when I had just taken on Fem Soc, was adjusting to my medication and trying to cope with my degree was just too much.
This time last year, if I had felt a setback like that I would have crumbled like a soggy cookie in a over stewed cup of tea. Sure, it bothers me a little ( I can’t completely abandon my competitive nature!!) but I quite literally tried to run before I could walk. Besides, it wasn’t really about running in the first place. It was about raising money for a local and very special organisation- Dundee International Women’s Centre which in fact I did.
Between Tough Mudder, the Kiltwalk and DUSA Media’s 55hour Radio Marathon, I helped raise over £2000 (£500 roughly on my own) which is no mean feet. And those 55 hours were not pretty, I can tell you that for nothing. That’s not to mention, the amount of clothes that we donated to 6 local charities in our clothes drive back in April- I still have flashbacks bring those clothes up 4 flights of stairs!!
I remember writing about the message of that centre- the idea of educating and empowering yourself and others around you was a powerful one that has stuck with me. I thought that working with the centre would empower me to take control of my life again. At least I was right about that bit. I can quite wholeheartedly say that finding the Magdalen, Fem Soc and all the amazing people that have come with it has brought me out of that dark place that I was trapped in this time last year.
I have been so so touched at all of your responses as you have read my pieces. Whether it was advice on break ups, dealing with mental health or my nystagmus , body image or the story of my friend’s rape, your kind words have reminded me of my love for writing and telling stories. When I had lost all confidence and sense of worth, you gave me a voice again. So, thank you.
So, one might assume, from the title, that I will be making another resolution. What will she climb/ fall off of/ run this year? What daft obstacle course or touching local charity has she found now? The answer I guess is that I haven’t found it yet. I think if last year had taught me anything, it’s the little things that I didn’t expect to happen that have made my year what it has been. So, sure I’m going to try and work on using the ‘No’ word a little more but other than that I’m just looking forward to 2020 to another year of using that voice and otherwise let’s just see what happens!
2019- your highlights xo