Few, other words carry as much power for me as this one. As a child, I was always trying to please others, be it by making them laugh, doing the dishes, helping out at school, or helping another person. As I grew from childhood to adolescence and then to adulthood, people-pleasing became a desire to please my friends, my partners, my clients, anyone, and everyone. This desire became a strongly rooted need. I needed emotional, psychological, and spiritual validation from others. I needed it as much as I needed air to breathe.
It was the only way I could feel valued in my life or have any sense of worth. If I was always nice and helpful, always smiling and giving, then I would not be in trouble, I would not be disliked, and I would not be discarded.
Inside I felt as though making others happy was my only purpose, the only reason I was put on this Earth. I did not trust anyone could actually like me, would actually choose of their own free will to be around me if I was not constantly giving to them.
Why was this angst inside of me? It was because I was not choosing myself, and I was not giving to myself. Pleasing others gave me a purpose and an identity; it gave me safety in relationships.
As I linked my identity to what I could do and give to others, I began to feel caged within the walls I had constructed around my life. It felt as though not only was there a ceiling above me and a floor below, but a wall on the left and a wall on the right. I was perpetually frustrated. There was a constant anger simmering below the surface at all times.
My light became dimmer and dimmer. Internally, I knew I was strong; I knew I was intelligent; I knew I had more to offer to this world. However, I was afraid to shine. I felt as if I shined too brightly; it would anger those around me or make them walk away from me. I thought I would be alone forever.
As time went on, I began hiding the essence of who I am, not only from others but from myself as well. I forgot who I was. I forgot what made me happy. I took care of others first and myself last, if at all. Others’ needs became my needs. I gave and gave.
My ego kept telling me to continue to see past my needs and to excuse the mistreatment of others because I was strong enough to do so. I was a bottomless pit of “love” for others, and I took pride in that.
I could always find a reserve of compassion for someone else, but where was the compassion for myself?
This need to love others in order to have a purpose led me into multiple emotionally and psychologically abusive relationships. I would stay with men even when they treated me poorly, were emotionally unpredictable, and isolated me from my friends and family. I excused their behavior and attributed it to their own trauma. I lied to others about the severity of the situation. I lied to myself. I became severely codependent.
My emotions were completely reliant upon others. I lost myself completely. I could not tell you my likes or dislikes. I was not living my own life. I was with men who diminished all of my achievements because I now know it threatened them. So I learned to keep my head down. I learned not to speak. I learned not to shine. I learned not to trust myself.
There came the point when the thoughts in my head were so jumbled because my only clear thought was how to keep the peace and maintain any sense of stability. I was afraid to speak, and I was afraid to stay quiet. There was a point in one relationship when I took pictures of the refrigerator and of the bed so that I put the food back on the proper shelf and the pillows back correctly.
One day I looked at my children, and I realized this was not the example I wanted to set for these incredible girls. The world needs them to be exactly who they are. The world needs their laughter, their sparkle, their power, and their authentic essence.
The question I was forced to ask myself is how am I teaching them to do what causes their soul to shine when not only am I not expressing my true identity, but I am constantly accepting and rationalizing toxic and abusive behavior? It took me a long time to learn that while we all have trauma, we all do not abuse others. Trauma is not a magic pass to act however you would like. We all have the choice to heal. Some of us choose to do so, and some do not.
And so, with this awakening, I made the conscious choice to heal. I chose to heal from the trauma that caused me to leave myself hidden. I chose to heal from being codependent on others. I chose not to hide from the responsibility of being myself. I chose to shine.
I am not a person that colors within lines. I am bold, emotional, and at times chaotic, but I am also a lover, a warrior, and a healer. I can be extremely extroverted, and then at other times, I find comfort standing in the corner. It is not because I do not like others, nor do I not wish to be included; it is because I can easily be overwhelmed by the energy of others, by their emotions, or the emotions I am experiencing. I was conditioned to believe this was negative, but it is not. It is one of my gifts. My sensitivity allows me to care more, to love more, to feel more, and to live more.
True freedom comes from allowing ourselves to feel EVERYTHING. The good and the bad. It comes from laughing out loud and from crying unabashedly when the tears flow. It comes from acknowledging all of our strengths and not shying away from all of the places where we need healing. Freedom comes from no longer pretending to be someone we are, not simply fitting into a relationship or a community. It comes from not simply ignoring what others think but not caring.
Freedom comes from being exactly who we are in any and every moment, no matter what anyone else thinks, and from loving yourself when you do. It comes from knowing you are exactly as you are supposed to be, and that you have everything that you need.
