There was a time in my life when I wore my people-pleasing like a badge of honour. I was the proverbial good girl. The rescuer. The healer. The one who always had a smile, always said yes, and never wanted to disappoint anyone. I thought this made me lovable, valuable… indispensable. But the day came when I took it too far. The day when being a people pleaser nearly killed me.
Being a People Pleaser Nearly Killed Me
The High Cost of Being “Good”
I pushed myself beyond the brink for years. In my 20s, I worked as a full-time massage therapist. I prided myself on how many clients I could help in a day. I ignored my body’s cries for rest, brushed off the exhaustion, and kept going. Because what if they needed me?
I had a bad habit of putting everyone else’s needs before my own because I needed to be needed.
At 25, I had a devastating car accident because I was rushing to a client. That was the day being a people pleaser nearly killed me.
First the Car Crash – Then the Burn Out
But even a car crash didn’t stop me for long. I didn’t get the message the first time.
I kept pushing through, and eventually, the chronic stress and self-neglect led to full-blown burnout.
I was a wreck. Sciatica. Migraines. Irritable bowel syndrome. Adrenal fatigue. Depression. Exhaustion.
I was a massage therapist, a healer, sorely in need of massage therapy and healing myself. And I was getting it.
I was going to all the people, I was doing all the things.
Kinesiology, Physiotherapy, Chiropractics, Shiatsu, Polarity Therapy, Homeopathy, Naturopathy, Alexander Technique, Rolfing, Cleansing Diets, Liquid Fasts, Nutritional Supplements, Meditation… you name it, I tried it.
But as they say, hindsight is 20/20 vision. It was only years later that I finally got the lesson.
The Turning Point
My full healing only came when I stopped doing the thing I was doing that was making me unwell – my career.
At 27, I moved to Johannesburg, leaving my massage practice behind in Cape Town.
I moved into another part of the wellness industry, nutritional supplements.
I shifted into a high-stress corporate sales role. I had a company behind me. I had the support of a team. So no burnout this time.
It was exhilarating. I was on a high and living the high life, travelling around the country, and travelling internationally.
Yet I continued to carry the same people-pleasing patterns into my new career and threw in some hyperachiever tendencies while I was at it — overworking, over-giving, and striving to prove myself.
I still had a sponsoring thought in my head that was driving me.
I thought if I stopped giving my all, I would stop mattering.
From Survival to Awakening
In my 40s, I finally allowed myself to slow down. Becoming a Mom gave me that gift. For the first two years of Benjamin’s life, I didn’t work at all — and it felt heavenly to focus entirely on being present with him. I cherished that sacred time and still feel grateful I was able to be there for every milestone.
When he started school, I gently began creating again — building my blogs, and finding ways to work from home in a way that lit me up.
I noticed how easily that old people-pleasing energy could creep back in.
I was the one always available. The one looking after not just my son, but often his friends too. Because I worked from home. Because I could. Because I cared. And yes — because a part of me still wanted to be seen as helpful, capable, and kind.
I love being a stay-at-home Mom, and I wouldn’t trade the role I’ve played in my son’s life for anything. But I also had to learn how to draw boundaries with love. To honour my own time and energy. To give from overflow, rather than obligation.
Positive Intelligence
It took me years to unwind the programming. To learn that saying no doesn’t make me a bad person. That boundaries are not walls — they’re bridges to more authentic connection. That I’m not here to save everyone. I’m here to be me.
It took all kinds of alternative therapies. Access Consciousness. Coaching. Positive Intelligence. Tears. Breakdowns. Breakthroughs.
And here’s what I know now:
People pleasing is not always kindness. It’s often self-abandonment in disguise.
Why We Do It (And Why It’s So Hard to Stop)
People pleasing often starts in childhood. Maybe you were praised for being the “easy one,” the “peacemaker,” the one who didn’t make waves. Or maybe love and approval felt conditional — something you had to earn by being good, helpful, quiet, and accommodating.
So you learned to read the room. To anticipate others’ needs before they spoke. To make yourself smaller so others could shine. You learned to survive by being what everyone else needed you to be.
And somewhere along the way, you forgot how to be you.
Letting go of people-pleasing isn’t just about learning to say no. It’s about healing the part of you that believed your worth was tied to your usefulness. It’s about unhooking your identity from other people’s opinions and expectations.
The Physical Toll of Chronic Self-Neglect
We often underestimate just how deeply this pattern affects our health. Chronic people-pleasing activates a constant stress response in the body — your nervous system is always on high alert, trying to stay safe by staying liked.
Over time, this can lead to burnout, adrenal fatigue, anxiety, depression, autoimmune conditions, and more. I see it in so many of the women I work with — and I lived it, too.
Your body is wise. It will keep whispering until you listen. And if you don’t? It will shout.
The Beauty of Becoming
The moment you stop trying to be everything to everyone, something sacred happens: you meet yourself again.
At first, that can feel terrifying. You might feel guilty, selfish, or even lost. But over time, as you begin to honour your own needs, desires, and dreams, you start to feel… whole.
You remember what lights you up.
You reconnect with your intuition.
You feel peace that isn’t performative.
You feel love that doesn’t require sacrifice.
You come home to yourself.
A New Way of Being
Today, I coach women like me — people pleasers, hyper-achievers, givers, nurturers — who’ve lost themselves in the hustle to make everyone else happy. I help them reconnect to what lights them up. Reclaim their joy, their purpose, their voice.
Because you don’t need a car crash or full-blown burnout to wake up.
Let my story be your permission slip.
You matter. Your needs matter. Your joy matters.
And it’s safe to start choosing you.
💬 Want to explore how to break free from people-pleasing? Take the Saboteur Assessment and let’s talk about what shows up for you.
If you had to pinpoint what’s causing your burnout, what would it be? I’d love to hear your burnout story in the comments.