The People-Pleasing Trap
I’ve always been the kind of person who puts others first. Even as a child, I went out of my way to make people feel loved and valued. (Well, except for my little brother—he’d probably tell a different story, but I digress, lol.) For the longest time, I didn’t question it. It was just who I was.
But recently, I realized—at the core, it wasn’t just kindness. It was people-pleasing.
Last year, I had some mental health issues. Except, I didn’t recognize it at the time. I just knew everything felt harder—things I would usually push through left me drained. The anxiety that had always lingered in the background was now front and center, and the depression? That was undeniable. My dad’s health was declining fast, and the weight of it pressed heavily on me and my family. I functioned fine at work, but dreaded going there for my night shifts.
And in the middle of all that? I enrolled in grad school. I started a travel business. Because that’s what I do—I keep going. But my brain felt fried. Every day was a battle to keep up. And menopause? That unwelcome guest made sure I felt every bit of the exhaustion.
Menopause wasn’t just an added layer of exhaustion but a turning point. It forced me to confront what I had been ignoring for years. The anxiety, the overwhelming fatigue, the sense that I was falling apart—yes, those things were already there, but menopause magnified them. It stripped away my ability to muscle through, to keep pretending I was okay. It was like a spotlight showing me every crack in my foundation that I’d covered up with busyness, overcommitment, and the need to be everything for everyone.
On the outside, I looked like I was handling it. Inside, I recognized the anxiety and depression, but I didn’t understand the extreme burnout I was experiencing until recently. At the time, I thought I was having a nervous breakdown.
So, I stopped everything.
At first, I took medical leave from work (and later resigned). Then, I withdrew from grad school. The travel business never got off the ground. And I didn’t push through for the first time in my life. I let myself stop. And that’s when I realized—burnout doesn’t just happen. It builds. It’s the weight of too many years of taking on too much and saying yes when I needed to say no. It’s believing I had to be more because I didn’t feel I was enough.
Even as I write this, I feel uncomfortable sharing it. It’s not easy for me to be vulnerable like this, but I am not ashamed because vulnerability offers the opportunity to build connections. And I love making meaningful and genuine connections with people.It allows for opportunities to share, grow, and help someone else who may be going through similar experiences.
The Hard Truth About People-Pleasing
Philippians 2:3,(AMP) says, “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or empty conceit [through factional motives, or strife], but with [an attitude of ]humility [being neither arrogant nor self-righteous], regard others as more important than yourselves.” It’s one of my life verses. This verse has always resonated with me; I believe it’s why I’ve always considered others first. There’s nothing wrong with genuinely wanting to esteem others above yourself. I don’t do it to be liked—it’s simply who I am. But now I wonder—how often was I truly serving, and how often was I just trying to be enough?
Burnout forced me to confront some hard truths, one of the biggest being my deep-seated people-pleasing habit. I know now that it probably started with me wanting to please my parents as a child. And when I just wanted my friends to like me. Somewhere along the way, that need for approval became a pattern, a way of moving through the world. I never felt like just being me was enough, and that realization stings.
At 54, I’m still learning that I don’t have to prove my worth. That it’s okay if someone doesn’t like me. I’m quiet, and sometimes I’m hard to read—that makes some people uncomfortable. But that’s not my problem to fix. And I don’t have to keep pushing when I have nothing left. I don’t have to feel ashamed for saying:
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I don’t like that.”
Or simply, “No.”
The Gift of Menopause
I’ve figured out that menopause has exposed everything I’ve been ignoring. Going through it allowed me to experience God in a brand-new way (and I’m so grateful). He turned up the heat and burned away some distractions so I could finally see clearly, like fire refining gold. And I saw that I had spent years putting my trust in my own efforts instead of trusting God completely. The standard is to look to Him first for everything. That is my aim.
Realizing that changed a lot for me. And that was just one of many things menopause showed me about myself.
I used to think trusting God was about the big things—illness, finances, life-altering decisions. But He showed me that trust isn’t just for the major storms; it’s for the everyday, seemingly minuscule moments, too. Every single concern, frustration, and overcommitment has to be surrendered to Him.
Just like the tree planted by a stream doesn’t panic when a drought comes, I had to learn that my strength comes from where my roots are planted. “Blessed [with spiritual security] is the man who believes and trusts in and relies on the Lord… For he will be [nourished] like a tree planted by the waters, That spreads out its roots by the river” (Jeremiah 17:7-8, AMP). The tree doesn’t scramble to find water; its roots are already deep in the source. And that’s how I want to live—firmly rooted in Christ, drawing everything I need from Him. My circumstances may constantly change, but I will be okay if my roots are in Him.
Learning to Surrender (Again and Again)
Here’s the thing about trust: it’s not a one-and-done deal. I wish it were. I wish I could say, “Okay, Lord, I trust You!” and never struggle with it again. But that’s not how it works.
Because I’m human, I forget. I slip back into old patterns. Without even realizing it, I start trying to figure things out on my own, convincing myself I’ve got it under control. And then—I hit another wall. That’s when God, in His gentle way, reminds me: Come back to Me.
Trusting Him isn’t a one-time decision; it’s a daily surrender, a lifelong practice. It means laying down my need for control again and again, every time I pick it back up. It means recognizing that I don’t have to control everything or carry more than I was ever meant to alone.
Jesus is my hero, my anchor, the root of my heart. I’m planted in Him, so I don’t have to be afraid. But I often have to remind myself of that. But again, that is why I need Him.
Strength Training for the Soul
Weightlifting has taught me that not every load is mine to carry. If I try to lift more than I can handle or my form is off, I’ll get injured. But if I train wisely, I grow stronger over time. The same is true with trust.
God never asked me to carry the weight of other people’s expectations, my perfectionism, or the need to prove myself. That’s unnecessary weight. Instead, He calls me to build the strength to trust Him, to rely on His wisdom, and to let go of everything that isn’t mine to hold.
The Anchor: Staying in the Word
I’ve learned that staying close to God is the only way to keep surrendering. How do I do that, you ask? By spending time with Him through His Word, daily devotionals, and prayer—not just when I feel low or stressed, or when things are falling apart, but as a daily discipline.
Like strength training, it’s a lifestyle. More than that, it’s a lifeline.
Because the moment I stop—the moment I drift—self-reliance sneaks back in. And with it comes anxiety, people-pleasing, and the weight of burdens I was never meant to carry.
But when I look to Him first, I can let go. I can trust.
I’m still learning. I’m still unlearning. But one thing is sure—God is faithful. And no matter how often I forget, He always calls me back.
That is some good news right there!
What’s Your Life Verse?
Philippians 2:3 is one of the Bible verses that has shaped how I see my life, my choices, and even this blog. But it took me years to realize that sometimes I had been living this verse in a way God never intended—by losing myself in people-pleasing instead of serving from a place of trust and love. Now, I honor it correctly—valuing others while staying grounded in Christ.
What about you? Do you have a verse that has shaped your faith journey? Maybe it’s one you’ve clung to in hard seasons. Perhaps you’re still searching for one that speaks to your heart. Either way, I encourage you to take a moment and reflect: What scripture anchors you? How might God be using it to transform your life?
Drop your verse in the comments—I’d love to hear how God is moving in your journey.
✨ Remember, life is a faith journey! ✨
