Gillian O'Gorman: People-pleasing can be valuable — but stressful
Gillian O'Gorman
I can't pinpoint the first time I compromised my needs to make someone else happy, but it was probably before I was five.
In fact, I can’t recall a time when I wasn’t more concerned about someone else’s happiness than my own.
This behaviour, often labelled as ‘people pleasing’, suggests weakness or insecurity. Yet, those of us who put others first possess unique strengths that deserve recognition.
One of my earliest memories captures this trait. I was about five or six, growing up in a suburban 1980s neighbourhood where children roamed the streets for hours, returning home only for food or bathroom breaks. One afternoon, I came rushing home in tears.
“What’s the matter?” my mother asked, giving me a mildly disinterested look, standard for the youngest of four, prone to dramatic entrances.
“They’re calling her fat!” I exclaimed, recounting how the boys around the corner were taunting my friend. Without taking a breath, I launched into a passionate defence of my friend, insisting she wasn’t fat, but “big-boned”.
I didn’t know where I’d heard that phrase, perhaps from her or someone describing me.
As a tall child, often described as ‘big’ or ‘huge,’ I interpreted these comments as veiled criticisms of my weight. I recognised her pain and wanted desperately to erase it, for her and myself.
That moment, though simple, was the first time I remember feeling another person’s emotions as if they were mine.
This ability to empathise deeply, a hallmark of people-pleasers, is something psychologist Dr Harriet B Braiker explores in her book The Disease to Please: Curing the People-Pleasing Syndrome.
It is a trait that stayed with me, shaping how I navigated relationships in to adulthood.
As the youngest of five, I grew up in a bustling household, often attuned to others’ emotions.
My mother was warm and affectionate, a whirlwind of feelings and empathy. As the youngest, I spent a lot of one-on-one time with her.
She was my primary source of love and connection. But when she was upset, her affection seemed out of reach, leaving me isolated and wondering what I’d done wrong.
In response, I developed the ability to read her emotions and to ‘fix’ things to restore harmony. If she were out of sorts, I’d offer to help make dinner, bring her tea, or simply ask, ‘What’s wrong?’
She often remarked, ‘You can read me like a book.’ And I could: I’d learned to tune in to her emotions as a survival mechanism. Over time, this adaptation became deeply ingrained, tying my sense of safety and worth to my ability to make others happy.
In his book , psychiatrist Dr Gabor Maté states that such tendencies often originate in environments where children suppress their needs to avoid rejection or conflict.
These patterns, reinforced during formative years, can persist in to adulthood, leading to chronic self-neglect.
As a teenager and in to my 20s, I lived in a constant state of hyper-vigilance about the needs of others.
I came to believe that my worth was tied to their approval, leading to co-dependent relationships and, ultimately, burnout. The more I prioritised others, the more I lost sight of myself.
By my mid-30s, this pattern had caught up with me: I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s thyroiditis, an autoimmune disorder. The immune system attacks the thyroid gland.
While the condition has various causes, I couldn’t ignore the parallels between my physical health and my emotional state. Just as my body attacked itself, I’d long undermined my well-being by ignoring my needs.
I recognise how deeply embedded beliefs like ‘my worth depends on how much I give’ shaped my life. These beliefs, rooted in childhood experiences, became my brain’s default wiring. But here’s the good news: Our brains are remarkably adaptable.
Psychiatrist Dr Norman Doidge’s work on neuroplasticity in shows that we can rewire our brains to break free from limiting beliefs. The first step is awareness; and the second is choosing new behaviours that align with self-worth and authenticity.
I began this journey in my late 30s. I trained as a coach, specialising in burnout and boundaries, and, over the past seven years, I’ve worked with hundreds of clients worldwide.
I’ve noticed a significant trend: Women often struggle more with boundary-setting than men.
A 2022 YouGov survey found that 56% of women describe themselves as people pleasers, compared to 42% of men. Why is this the case? Societal conditioning plays a role. Girls are often praised for being nurturing, agreeable, and accommodating from a young age.
Comments like, ‘You’re such a good girl!’ reinforce the idea that their value lies in putting others first. Over time, this can lead to guilt or shame when asserting their needs.
But people-pleasers also possess unique strengths. Our heightened empathy and ability to read others’ emotions are invaluable skills, especially in leadership roles.
Psychologist Daniel Goleman, renowned for his work on emotional intelligence, highlights how traits like empathy and social awareness form the foundation of strong relationships and professional success.
Similarly, Brené Brown, a research professor and bestselling author known for her work on courage, vulnerability, and leadership, emphasises that qualities often found in people pleasers, such as vulnerability and active listening, are critical for fostering trust, psychological safety, and collaboration within teams.
These traits enable people-pleasers to create environments where individuals feel seen, valued, and empowered to contribute, ultimately driving stronger connections and better personal and professional outcomes.
The key I’ve learned is to harness my superpower and protect it by creating balance. By setting boundaries and prioritising self-care, people-pleasers can channel their empathy and responsiveness in to meaningful connections without draining themselves.
Practices like mindfulness, journaling, and visualisation help rewire the brain, creating neural pathways that support healthier patterns.
These habits empower people-pleasers to thrive, leveraging their strengths, while safeguarding their well-being.
For me, the journey has been transformative.
I’ve come to see people-pleasing not as a flaw, but as a hidden superpower.
When channelled effectively, it fosters connection, builds trust, and drives meaningful change. While change isn’t easy — “hard at first, messy in the middle, and gorgeous at the end” as author Robin Sharma says — it’s undoubtedly worth it.
To my fellow people-pleasers, your superpower lies in your empathy, intuition, and adaptability. With the right tools and mindset, you can embrace these gifts while honouring your needs.
After all, we’re not here to simply survive: We’re here to thrive. And that’s a vision this superhero people-pleaser embraces wholeheartedly.
