Chronicles of a Recovering People-Pleaser

My healing is ongoing. I’m still finding myself, to this day.

I started writing after I got expelled from college because it was easier to articulate my pain, disappointment, and rage on paper–I could speak my full, raw truth without fear of judgment or consequence.

I poured myself into the pages, and found missing pieces of myself in the process. Up until that point, I had spent most of my life feeling misunderstood. Writing taught me to articulate my thoughts and sift through my feelings. Writing gave me a chance to reclaim myself and redefine the stories that I was telling myself about who I was and what I was capable of accomplishing. Writing offered me the chance to cut through other peoples’ projections and assumptions en route to understanding myself more intimately.

Learning to articulate myself through written word was the confidence boost that I needed in my 20’s. It opened up a lot of doors, helped me to find my people, and taught me more about myself than any class I’ve ever taken. Perhaps most importantly, it made me feel a bit less lonely during the seasons of life where I was figuring myself out. Before I was diagnosed with autism, before I learned to be completely honest with myself, before I picked up on meditation, I found clarity inside of cluttered iPhone notes, empty google docs, and gently worn journals.

I don’t think I could possibly explain how healing it was to finally be able to find the words. After decades of hiding, I found myself in a space where speaking up for myself didn’t feel scary. Deep and genuine connections felt within my reach. The world felt a bit less lonely.

And so, I continued to find the words. I sought them out and used them to bring people into my world, both online and within my IRL relationships. With time, the pendulum swung a bit too far in the other direction. I started to approach communication with a “the more, the better” mentality—in hindsight I can see that it was my anxiety that pushed me to over-explain, over-communicate, and over-articulate my thoughts to the point that I was exhausting myself emotionally. 

I took it upon myself to make sure people understood me. And if they didn’t, I would default to blaming myself. If someone didn’t dislike me, I told myself that it was because they didn’t understand me, and I would challenge myself to “win them over.” I became the person who would always apologize first, even if I wasn’t at fault. I became always the person who would hold his tongue if speaking up could mean creating conflict, or losing a so-called ‘friend.’

I was an expert at being likeable–but I didn’t like myself, and that dissonance started to seep into every relationship I was trying to build. I had surrounded myself with people who expected me to justify my existence and way of being. These weren’t just people who held me accountable—these were people who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, accept the parts of me that didn’t serve their needs. These were people who had grown to believe that I would always find a way to meet their expectations. These were people who weren’t ready to meet me where I was at.

The thing is, I wasn’t blind to the dynamics that I was creating. I knew what I was doing, and I knew that I deserved better–but people don’t always find the “better” that they deserve, and I wasn’t sure if I would be fortunate enough to find deeper forms of friendship. I felt like I was tolerable, but not loved. I felt like I was a burden. For a while, my fear told me that it was better to keep building the relationships that felt familiar than to risk walking into the unknown. 

I could lie and say that there was some sort of specific, climatic moment where I stood up for myself and took a step back from every toxic relationship in my life, but this is real life. My awakening was gradual. My choices changed over months and years, not with the snap of a finger. My healing is ongoing. I’m still finding myself, to this day.

But I am finding myself. 

I don’t over-explain myself as often.I don’t chase after people who show me they’re not interested in my friendship.I don’t try to “meet in the middle” with people who wouldn’t move an inch for me. I don’t feel an uncontrollable obligation to over-explain to people who are committed to misunderstand me. 

I’m finding the people who want to make space for the fullness of who I am. I’m building deeper relationships with people who make me feel comfortable existing in my own skin. And I’m so, so glad that I found the courage to trust myself enough to take that first step into the unknown.

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Eyes On The Road, my first book in over six years, is available for pre-order! Official release date is November 1st. Your support would mean the world to me! Get your copy here, and scroll down to read a page from the book.

Pre-order Eyes On The Road here.