People-Pleasing vs Knowing What You Want

For as long as I can remember, people-pleasing was my default. It didn’t start in adulthood—it started in childhood.

My father wanted me to be independent. He gave me responsibilities and trusted me to make decisions. But every decision I made somehow needed to be validated by him. There was always a “better way,” something I could have done differently.

My mother, in her own way, tried to protect me. When she sensed tension, she would step in and answer for me before I even had the chance to speak.

And somewhere in between those two dynamics, I lost my voice.

I remember feeling so frustrated as a child—wanting to express myself but not knowing how. When I finally had the chance to speak, the words wouldn’t come out. I would shut down. I would cry.

Not because I didn’t have anything to say…

but because I didn’t feel safe enough to say it.

Without realizing it, I learned something very early on:

I couldn’t trust myself to get it right.

And that belief followed me into adulthood.

Every decision—big or small—felt heavy. Whether it was choosing something simple or making life decisions, I always needed reassurance. I needed someone to confirm that I was doing it the “right” way.

Over time, that turned into something deeper.

It turned into self-doubt.

It turned into overthinking.

It turned into constantly looking outside of myself for answers.

And that’s where the people-pleasing took over.

I became someone who focused more on what others wanted than what I needed.

What will make them happy?

What should I do so I don’t disappoint them?

This pattern followed me everywhere—into my friendships, my relationships, my role as a mother, and my work.

When I became a mom, I gave everything to my kids. My entire world revolved around them. And when I went through my separation, I was left with something I had never truly faced before:

I didn’t know who I was.

I didn’t know what I wanted.

I was in survival mode. Autopilot.

That’s also when I started my cake business.

From the outside, it looked like passion. I taught myself everything—watching videos, learning from different teachers, constantly improving. And yes, I became really good at it.

But inside, it felt very different.

Every time I delivered a cake, I would feel anxious.

Did they like it?

Did I do it right?

Did I charge too much? Too little?

And I would wait…

Wait for that message.

That confirmation.

That reassurance that I had done a good job.

Only then would my body relax.

That’s when I started to see it clearly.

It wasn’t just about baking.

It was about validation.

I needed someone else to tell me I was good enough.

And that same pattern showed up in every area of my life.

At work, I pushed myself beyond my limits. I said yes when I wanted to say no. I took on more than I could handle, constantly trying to prove my worth.

Until I burned out completely.

That burnout forced me to stop.

To sit with myself.

To ask uncomfortable questions.

Why do I always put myself last?

Why do I feel guilty choosing myself?

Why do I need others to validate me?

It took years—years of reflection, therapy, falling and getting back up—to begin understanding.

People-pleasing isn’t just about being kind.

It’s often rooted in fear.

Fear of not being enough.

Fear of being rejected.

Fear of getting it wrong.

And slowly, I began to shift.

I started realizing that it’s okay to choose myself.

It’s okay to say no.

It’s okay to not meet everyone’s expectations.

Because the people who truly love you…

will not leave you for being yourself.

One of the biggest realizations for me came when people asked why I stopped baking.

“You’re so good at it,” they would say.

“Why don’t you continue?”

And for the first time, I allowed myself to be honest:

It’s not what I truly want.

Yes, it helped me financially. Yes, it gave me a sense of accomplishment.

But it was also feeding something deeper—my need for validation.

And I didn’t want to build a life around that.

Because when you do things only to please others, you slowly disconnect from yourself.

Today, I’m still learning.

Still unlearning.

Still finding my way back to my own voice.

And this—this space, this blog—is part of that journey.

A place where I no longer need validation…

but where I choose to share.

So if you’re reading this and you feel like you’re constantly putting yourself last…

If you feel guilty choosing yourself…

If you don’t know what you want…

You’re not alone.

Start small.

Start by asking yourself one simple question:

What do I want?

You might not have the answer right away.

And that’s okay.

Because learning to trust yourself again…

takes time.

And I’d love to hear from you—

Do you recognize yourself in this?

Have you ever struggled with people-pleasing or self-doubt?

If you feel comfortable, share your story. 🤍