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The BB Journal Editorial

If you were taught that being ‘agreeable’ is a virtue and nobody told you it could also be a way of slowly disappearing, this piece is for you.
There is a version of “being nice” that is genuinely beautiful, rooted in warmth, generosity and the real desire to make people feel cared for. And then there is another version that looks identical from the outside, but feels completely different on the inside. The kind that leaves you exhausted, resentful and quietly unsure of who you actually are.
Most of us have done both and many of us are still doing the second one and calling it the first. This piece is about that second version. The people-pleasing that wears the costume of kindness that, if we’re being completely honest with ourselves, is a way of abandoning who we are.
First, let’s understand where it comes from
Nobody is born a people-pleaser. It’s something that gets learned, usually quite early, for a very good reason.
Maybe you grew up in a home where keeping the peace mattered more than telling the truth. Where expressing a strong opinion got you labelled difficult, dramatic or too much. Maybe the adults around you were unpredictable and you learned very quickly that being agreeable was the safest way to move through a room.
Honestly, this conditioning might run deep. From the time we are small, we are taught that our value lies partly in how comfortable we make others feel. “Be polite, don’t be difficult, smile, don’t argue, be the bigger person, don’t make this into a whole thing“.
These aren’t bad lessons in isolation. Kindness matters and empathy matters too. But somewhere along the way, the message might get twisted into something else entirely: your feelings matter less than other people’s comfort and your “no” is a problem to be managed. And that’s exactly where the trouble begins.
THE SIGNS WORTH SITTING WITH
- You say yes and feel resentment immediately. But you said yes anyway.
- You change your opinion mid-sentence because you sensed someone disagreed.
- You apologise constantly, including for things that are not your fault.
- You feel responsible for how other people feel, even in situations where you did nothing wrong.
- You find it physically difficult to disappoint someone, even a stranger, even once.
- After most social interactions, you replay what you said and worry you said the wrong thing.
- You have never, not even once, sent back food at a restaurant that was genuinely wrong.
The real cost of “People Pleasing”
We tend to think of people-pleasing as a minor habit. A personality quirk, maybe. But the cost of living this way, day after day, year after year, is actually enormous.
It costs you your own opinion of yourself. When you repeatedly override your instincts, your needs, your honest reactions just to keep someone else comfortable, you send yourself a message: what I feel doesn’t matter enough to protect. Over time, that message becomes a belief which once settled is difficult to undo.
People-pleasing feels like it should make relationships better, but sometimes it costs you your relationships. This is the one that surprises people. You become a reflection of what others want to see rather than a person with your own interior world. The people around you get comfortable, yes. But comfortable with a version of you that isn’t fully real. And that distance, eventually, becomes loneliness.
It costs you your anger. And your anger, before you dismiss it, is important. People-pleasers rarely allow themselves to be openly angry as it conflicts too much with the identity of the person who never makes things difficult. So the anger goes underground and becomes resentment. And resentment is just anger that hasn’t been allowed to speak.
Every time you swallow what you really think to avoid someone’s discomfort, you are choosing their peace over your truth. Do that enough times and you start to lose track of what your truth even is.“
‘Niceness’ can be a form of control
Sometimes, not always, but sometimes, people-pleasing is not just about fear of conflict Sometimes it’s about managing outcomes. “If I make everyone happy, nobody can be upset with me“, “If I never say anything that could offend, nobody can reject me“, “If I am always
agreeable, I am always safe.“
The pleasantness becomes a kind of armour. A way of staying in control of how people see you, how people respond to you, whether people will stay or leave. It feels like generosity but underneath it’s protection from rejection, conflict and possibly not being liked anyway.
Recognising this doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you human. But it’s worth looking at, because when you understand that people-pleasing is partly a strategy for managing your own fear, you can start to ask the harder question: what exactly am I so afraid of?
The confusion between kindness and self-abandonment
Here is the distinction that changes everything and it’s worth learning:
Kindness comes from abundance. You help because you genuinely want to and because that act of giving feels aligned with who you are. There is no hidden resentment underneath it and no part of you is waiting for any reciprocation that actually never comes.
People-pleasing comes from depletion. You help because saying no feels too dangerous or may be because you need the other person’s approval or gratitude or simply their continued presence in your life. The act looks identical from the outside but from the inside, it’s exhausting and it slowly hollows you out.
But how do you know what exactly is happening in your situation?
The test is simple: How do you feel after? Not in the moment when someone smiles because you said yes. But later, when you’re alone with it. Do you feel glad you did it? Or do you feel like you have chosen someone else over yourself, again?
What it actually takes to stop?
The answer is not to become someone who stops caring about others. That’s the fear that if you stop people-pleasing, you become selfish, cold, difficult and people will leave with everything falling apart. But honestly, it won’t.
Some people will definitely be unsettled by the new you, especially the ones who benefited from your agreeableness, relied on your inability to say no and were comfortable with a version of you that never asked for anything. Those may not adjust easily. But that discomfort in them is not evidence that you did something wrong. It is evidence that what
existed before was not actually a fair exchange.
The right people will stay. And they will, most of them, respect you more.
For you, the only important thing is the willingness to sit with your own discomfort. Saying no and watching someone’s face fall; sharing your real opinion and not knowing if it will land well.
You are not here to be easy. You are here to be real.“
Start small. Start here.
You don’t need to transform overnight. You can’t suddenly become the woman who says exactly what she thinks in every room and never apologises for anything. That’s not the goal, and honestly, that’s not even what health looks like.
NOTICE: The goal is to start noticing and catch yourself mid-yes and ask: is this actually what I want? Start noticing when you change your opinion because of the energy in the room rather than because you genuinely reconsidered. Let yourself feel the resentment before it goes underground.
PRACTICE: The goal is to practice saying what is true for you. Hold your ground once in a conversation where you would normally fold. Send one message you’ve been avoiding because you didn’t want to create friction. Say “I’d rather not” to something low-stakes and let the other person handle their own feelings about it.
Every single time you choose yourself in one of these small moments, you are rewriting the belief that your needs don’t deserve protecting.
The person who knows what she thinks, says what she means and doesn’t shrink herself to fit other people’s comfort is the person who doesn’t just live better, but loves better, leads better and gives more than she ever could when she was giving from obligation rather than from choice.
Your kindness is a gift. But it only counts when it’s freely given and not extracted from a person who never learned she was allowed to keep some for herself.
With love, always,
The BB Journal

