For most of my life, I’ve been a people-pleaser. My mantra was simple: make others happy, even if it meant compromising my own well-being. Speaking up for myself or being my own advocate? That was foreign territory. I navigated life by prioritizing what I thought would make others happy, often at my own expense.
Listen… stop right now and truly listen. What do you hear? Chances are, there’s never a moment of absolute silence. There’s always some ambient noise—the hum of the central air system, the sound of cars passing by, the TV in the living room, or even the vibrations of your phone. For me, silence is more than just a lack of sound; it’s an uncomfortable void where my mind fills in the gaps with a cacophony of thoughts.
I place a lot of my value in being good enough for others. I tell myself if I’m good enough people will find value in me and want to include me in their lives. So I go out of my way to do things for others to prove my value. Writing this right now I can see how ridiculous it is but in the moment; in my day to day life I don’t see that.
I recently listened to a podcast where the gentleman being interviewed discussed his journey to self discovery through childhood traumas. Something he said in that interview blew my mind. He said, "I did the work to build my smile."
American culture has an obsession with hurt, pain, sadness, depression, and drama. At every turn we’re hearing bad news, we’re getting warnings and amber alerts. There is an almost constant stream of negativity and fear mongering messaging directed at us. And as a collective society we are often left to process those messages and traumatic experiences without support, or common language we can use to share how we're being impacted on the individual level. The experience of peace, happiness, and joy on a daily basis seems like a luxury only afforded to our favorite reality stars (and even those experiences are short lived).
Something about being responsible for this child made me think differently and look at things differently—and that's been going on for about 5 years now. As a mother, I want my child to have all the things. And as a parent with some privileges, I can within reason, give my child all of the things. I can buy the toys, we can take trips and have experiences—and we’ve done that. Yet, in the midst of doing all of that I still find myself not feeling fulfilled. Or even like I’m giving my child the lifestyle that I think they are deserving of. In fact, what I find myself feeling is empty, unfulfilled, exhausted and stressed. I realize that no matter how many things I buy, or how many experiences I can afford for my child or myself, having access to things doesn't actually add value to our life experience.
Sometimes I feel stuck in my own growth.
If the world around me is an indicator, I would think everyone is deep into their journey of self awareness, self care and mental health. Yet, I often find myself in social settings feeling like perhaps my understanding of growth, self care, and wellness is misaligned with the world.
The presence of that one little plant I had in those big moments of transition, grounded me, and became an intricate part of my wellness. I realized that I’d lost that part of my wellness in adding the responsibilities of motherhood into my life and I missed it.
"...joy is simplistic, on the emotional spectrum, it's not too far right or left—it's not an overt feeling of extreme happiness or extreme upset; but rather the midpoint between the two; the balance of emotion."
As I ‘ve gotten older, wiser, and with the help of therapy I am finally learning how to be…me. Working on being me is like trying to juggle flaming swords while riding a unicycle—except instead of swords, it's family, work, and the ever-present desire to keep being me. Let’s face it, showing up for others in a way that’s true to me without morphing into a people-pleaser is the ultimate balancing act. It’s SO hard ya’ll, but I’m pushing through.