005 – A Hidden Layer of People Pleasing

As a recovering people pleaser, I can proudly say I’m finally in a position where I don’t abandon myself to keep other people happy. I know my needs, I know my limits and I can communicate with confidence.

Recently, however, I became acquainted with another layer of people pleasing.

And that layer? Holding other people’s emotions.

What do I mean by that?

Now before I begin, I want to say that there is absolutely some beauty in considering other people’s emotions.. something I actively do. But holding people’s emotions is different.

It means managing their emotional experience as if it’s your own.

Since becoming an effective communicator, I’ve always held in high regard how I’m able to navigate conversations, making the other person feel seen and heard whilst also being able to communicate my point.

But recently, I became aware that not only was I navigating conversations successfully, I was also holding the other person’s emotions too much.

What does that look like, you might ask?

Well, it looks a little like this.

Communicating my boundary with someone, and when feeling the disappointment from that person, jumping to cushion that disappointment. To make it as soft as I can. To make that disappointment my responsibility.

And you know what happened when I did that?

I was continually taking on more than was mine to carry. 

This situation has arisen on four separate occasions, all of which have completely sapped me of energy and made me withdraw and feel empty. 

While trying to remain understanding, it left me feeling unappreciated, unheard and unseen.

Enough was enough.

I began to question what the problem actually was. Why was this loop being created in the first place?

The next time it happened, I paid attention to what was going on in my body. My system was calm during the communication, but then immediately heightened once there was a hint of disappointment. And I definitely didn’t feel like that with those who expressed disappointment in a calm and loving manner. 

I thought to myself, ‘I’d just feel so much better if they were just understanding about it.’ Then I paused. My rational brain kicked in and I thought, but that’s not fair, is it? I am allowed to insert boundaries and communicate my needs. And someone else is allowed to misunderstand and feel disappointed at the same time.

The two things can exist at the same time.

And that’s when it became clear: it wasn’t actually their disappointment that was the problem. It was my inability to tolerate being the cause of it. I hated letting someone down.

Someone not understanding my decision doesn’t make it the wrong decision. I’ve spent copious amounts of energy explaining my position because I want the other person to understand that I’m not being difficult, selfish, unreasonable, etc. Though it’s just not necessary. It’s exhausting. And it’s a layer of people pleasing I’d overlooked.

I reassured myself that it’s ok to let this go. I’ve broken free of being the ‘reliable’ one, the ‘understanding’ one, the ‘easy’ one.

The inner conflict was REAL.

I have spent so much of my life being the person who made things easy for everyone else, that when I finally started putting myself first, someone else not being happy about it felt like something I needed to fix.

But it wasn’t. So I decided to put it into practice. A new way of being.

Talking the way I wanted to, acting with warmth and love, and detaching from disappointment.

Of course, when it came up again, I could feel my system vibrating.

I did my breathing. I stayed present with the facts, rather than being swept away with emotion. I reminded myself that this feeling was an old way, that we were trying something new now. Instead of rescuing the other person, I sat with discomfort.

I got on with my day, repeated my mantra and calmed my system down when she needed it. And slowly, over a couple of days, my body started to ease.

And I had this little lightbulb moment of: Wow. This feels nice.

I don’t need to manage people’s experiences. I don’t need to ‘participate’ in the emotional aftermath if I feel it’s draining me. I can have compassion for someone’s disappointment without taking responsibility for it.

Compassion without responsibility.

I can understand why you’re disappointed. I can care that you’re disappointed. I can even feel uncomfortable knowing I’ve disappointed you.

But I don’t have to undo my boundary to make that feeling go away.

All these realisations came between the two eclipses.

I honestly felt like a portal had opened and I could see under yet another layer of myself. A familiar feeling throughout the last year of my 20’s actually. 

Unravelling.

Not one huge transformation, but layer after layer being revealed. From little habits, like chewing the skin around my nails, to big lessons, like how precious my sexual energy is. And now this.

Another layer of learning how to choose myself without needing everyone else to be okay with it. 

I also think this is where we have such a funny idea of what healing is supposed to look like.

We imagine it’s going to be some grand gesture. That one thing we do and suddenly we wake up and everything has changed. Maybe it’s the retreat. Maybe it’s whatever new practice, book, course or experience we’ve convinced ourselves is finally going to reverse it all.

And don’t get me wrong – I think these things can be incredibly valuable.

But I’m starting to really reflect on my journey and realise that most of my healing is actually much more ‘boring’ than that.

It’s the small, everyday, consistent habits. The conscious choices. The repetition. Noticing the pattern and choosing differently. Having the same conversation with yourself again and again. Holding the boundary again. Sitting with the discomfort again.

I don’t believe healing is one huge moment where suddenly everything is different.

Every time I survive someone’s disappointment without abandoning myself, I’m teaching myself  something.

And that is the self-love bit.

For me, it’s all of those tiny moments, repeated over and over, until one day you look back and realise you’re no longer responding to life in the way you used to. No longer responding with people pleasing.

And I think that’s what I’m doing here. Recording the tiny moments, the realisations, the layers as they unravel. 

I hope you like reading them as much as I love recording and sharing them.

Let me know what you’ve been learning lately?

With love,
Tyla x