Pleasing People

Over the years I’ve met countless people who tell me that they are a “people pleaser”.

I used to nod and assume that I knew what was meant, with my client feeling they had conveyed this ‘thing’ that they did in a variety of relationships.

Over time, it became clear to me that pleasing people wasn’t their goal; I still nodded, and they assumed we shared the same understanding.

We’d go on to explore this pleasing people business and it would become clear that they did indeed believe that pleasing people was what they were doing. The people being pleased would change over time, but the dynamic was always the same – they would put the other person’s needs ahead of their own.

Despite my client’s best efforts, the other party often didn’t show much evidence that they were pleased and seemed to take it as their due.

When my clients were not busy trying to please, they spent their time on the edge of failure; failure to come up with whatever was required to keep the other party pleased.

In many of my client’s close relationships this threat of failing to please was the centre of their concerns and ruled their lives.

Then I started to wonder what the hell’s wrong with pleasing someone – nothing.

If I do or say something that pleases someone and I get a kick out of it, then I’m one point up. If they get a kick out of what I’ve just said or done, they too are a point up – a two-pointer. And what’s wrong with that? The interactions my clients were describing in the relationships they were having problems with were rarely two-pointers.

Often, whatever they were doing to please the other party would cost them in some way. It was done out of a sense of obligation or because they somehow felt manipulated. They would feel they had no choice in saying or doing whatever it was to please the other party – and they felt one point down. Even if the other party was pleased and were one point up, the interaction was a nil sum - 0.

One upside to nominating yourself as a people pleaser is that it sounds reasonable and wholesome.

After all, what’s wrong with going through life attempting to please others? It’s often said with a sort of rueful shrug, suggesting to me and themselves that, “I know it’s a bit of a bummer but hey, that’s me……” The shrug, after the phrase, seems to have the quality of letting themselves off the hook for being responsible for this people pleasing behaviour.

They would then describe interactions that were never two-pointers. What they describe are one- pointers where pleasing others was done, in some way, at their expense.

The conversation often went on to describe the built-in disappointment that their efforts would hardly ever be rewarded – these aren’t reciprocal relationships. And yet my clients, locked into these relationships, are somehow always nonplussed at this lack of reciprocity, when it’s never been reciprocal.

As with so much of these behaviours the origins go so for back that clients can rarely pinpoint when it started. I have a set of Russian dolls on a shelf in my office as a sort of physical metaphor to illustrate how the way we adapt in our early years can often echo down the years and dictate how we respond to situations decades down the line.

There will be a huge number of children today for whom attempting, and most often failing, to please those around them is an entirely reasonable adaptation to the situation they are in. If that adaptation keeps them safe, then it will be entirely reasonable to stick with it. When the circumstances change, some will change. Alas, many people continue to deal with the world and the people around them as if the world as a grownup is the same as it was when they were a child. It’s not uncommon for a perceptive lover to offer to rescue someone from such a situation, only to slip into the role that’s just been vacated by one or both parents.

You might expect all the children in a particular family to take up this people-pleasing role. That sometimes happens. However, in my experience it’s rare. It’s much more common in girls than boys and where siblings are the same sex, the task is usually allocated to one child whilst the other is somehow excused and seems to get the prizes for just turning up. Golden-boys are commonly excused the duty of having to please altogether.

Now, when a client describes themselves as a “people pleaser,” I don’t nod. I might ask, “In what sense?” Spoiling the story they’re familiar with, my question most often results in an awkward pause, before they describe one-pointers where pleasing others is done, in some way, at their expense.

I might then ask, “What if you’d said, “I spend all my time trying not to displease others or avoiding being the cause of disappointment,” how much nearer the mark would that be in describing what you do?” I’ve never had anyone disagree. From that point on, we’re talking about fear.

You can see why the self-nomination as people-pleaser is so attractive; much less burdensome to carry that label than to admit to yourself that you’ve spent pretty much your whole life in fear.

And if the rueful shrug helps you accept your people pleasing behaviour, then there’s no internal demand to change anything. However, once you accept that you’re choosing to spend your life in fear the discomfort demands change.

Initially it’s often impossible to conceive just what the change may be or how you might bring it about – you might cause offence in the process... and that would never do.

With time, most people start to feel safe enough and bold enough to make the change and aspire to only go for two-pointers in the future.