3 Signs You're Stuck in People-Pleasing
“Illustration by Katie Ferreol”
People-pleasing isn’t always obvious. It doesn’t always show up as a fake smile or a forced “yes.” Sometimes, it’s deeply internal, hidden beneath burnout, guilt, chronic self-doubt, and a quiet fear of making anyone uncomfortable. For me, it wasn’t just a habit. It was a coping mechanism, and a subtle performance I didn’t even realize I was playing. It was a trauma-rooted script I kept reading from, even when the play was long over.
Here are 3 signs that revealed I was stuck in people-pleasing… and the deeper work I did to untangle myself.
Sign 1: You Say “Yes” Even When You're Drowning
If you’re wired to say yes to everything, even when your body is screaming for rest, this one's for you.
I found myself constantly agreeing, reassuring, and appeasing others to avoid tension. It felt easier to overload myself than to risk the discomfort of saying no, disappointing someone, or having to explain myself repeatedly. There were times I agreed to things knowing full well I wouldn’t follow through. Not because I was dishonest, but because saying “yes” ended the conversation quicker. It felt safer than enduring the tension of standing my ground. Eventually, the overcommitment led to quiet resentment. Then came the exhaustion. And then… the meltdowns. The distance. The emotional shutdown. And the moments where I couldn’t mask the weight anymore.
This isn’t just forgetfulness or flakiness. This is your nervous system waving the white flag.
Sign 2: You Apologize for Every Little Thing
If you’re constantly saying “sorry”, even when you’ve done nothing wrong, take a breath and read this carefully.
I used to apologize for everything. For sharing a different perspective. For taking up space. For other people’s discomfort. For needing time. For being misunderstood.
Sometimes people would pause and ask, “Why are you apologizing right now?” and I had no answer to give to that question. The truth was: I wasn’t apologizing for something I did. I was apologizing for who I was. For just existing.
I was preemptively trying to prevent conflict or disapproval before it even happened, trying to stay one step ahead of being misunderstood or disliked.
Over-apologizing is a form of self-erasure. It’s an energetic way of saying, “I don’t want to be a burden.” But in trying not to be a burden to others, I became one to myself. The cost was internalized shame, social exhaustion, and walking on eggshells in conversations that should’ve been nourishing, not draining.
Sign 3: You Self-Sabotage Through Chronic Self-Doubt
This one was the most insidious. I was constantly putting myself down, not always out loud, but internally. Even in my best moments, I would doubt my abilities, minimize my progress, or second-guess my decisions.
I devoured books, advice, and healing techniques… but never felt ready to apply them.
Why? Because some part of me still believed I was broken, and that nothing would truly work for me. This belief became a self-fulfilling prophecy: I wouldn’t try, or I’d quit early, reinforcing the idea that I was stuck. I became addicted to self-improvement, but allergic to self-trust. Criticism from others felt unbearable because I was already my harshest critic. I held myself to impossible standards, and punished myself when I didn’t meet them. And because I didn’t trust my own gut, I constantly looked to others to validate what I already knew deep down. Resenting myself even more, for time I wasted by not acting on my gut instincts initially.
This cycle is draining. And worse, it keeps you small.
How I Started to Break Free
1. I Became Conscious of the Spaces I Was In
I started paying attention to where I spent my energy, and how those spaces either amplified my people-pleasing or helped me unlearn it. Some environments I could leave immediately. Others, especially long-standing commitments, required a more strategic, gradual exit. But the turning point was this: I realized I kept overpromising in low-trust spaces, around people who rewarded performance, obedience, or emotional labor with comfort and approval. I was surviving in environments where codependency was normalized, and where I felt pressured to earn belonging by constantly proving myself.
So I stopped asking, “How can I keep everyone happy?” And started asking, “Do I have the capacity to not only withstand this moment, but stay in this environment continuously? And is it a nourishing environment or an energetically depleting one?”
When I became conscious of the emotional economies I was participating in, I reclaimed the power to either adapt or opt out.
2. I Honored the Power of Discernment
Living with C-PTSD taught me that even minor setbacks could feel catastrophic. Losing a job. A friend pulling away. An argument with a partner. These things felt like soul fractures, not just life events. But I had to reparent myself through that intensity. I had to learn how to tell the difference between:
Temporary challenges vs. toxic patterns
Human mistakes vs. karmic loops
Discomfort vs. danger
This was when discernment became my closest companion.
Because in toxic dynamics, accountability is one-sided. Growth is rare. Gaslighting is constant. And peace is a negotiation you never truly win. The more I practiced self-observation, the more clearly I could sense: “This is just discomfort, I can move through this.” Or, “This is spiritual sabotage, and it’s time to go.”
Your ability to discern is what opens new doors. It becomes your internal compass when others have lost their way. It becomes your flame in spaces where others have grown too comfortable with staying in darkness.
3. I Started Challenging Myself, Gently but Consistently
People-pleasing doesn’t unravel overnight. It requires small, conscious challenges, and deep acknowledgment when you rise to meet them.
Saying no without apologizing
Voicing disagreement without sugarcoating
Walking away from disrespect without obsessing over how they’ll feel about it
These are all sacred acts of reclamation. So I began noticing them, honoring them, letting them count. Each time I chose self-respect over performance, I saw my old self retreat a little more. Each time I stayed present with discomfort instead of abandoning myself, I grew stronger. And eventually, I became unrecognizable, even to myself.
You’re Not Weak for Wanting to Be Liked
People-pleasers often get shamed. We’re told we’re spineless, fake, or approval-addicted. But very few people understand the weight of living in a society that conditions niceness as a survival skill. Where “being agreeable” is rewarded and asserting your needs is punished. So if you’ve struggled with people-pleasing, be gentle with yourself.
You were surviving.
You were adapting.
You were learning how to stay safe in unsafe systems.
But now…
You’re remembering that your worth isn’t negotiable.
Your truth doesn’t need permission.
And your soul doesn’t need to perform to belong.
