People Pleasing - Stop Saving Seats

Posted without reviews or edits, just authentic and raw sharing. Enjoy or scroll by. Either way.

April 9, 2025

I sat with my elbows on my knees, hands on my temples, eyes staring blurrily down at 9-inch linoleum tiles which were splattered with my tears, trying to hide my uncontrollable emotions (so he wouldn’t feel scared), in one of two cold and uncomfortable chairs at my dad’s emergency room bedside. With faded echoes of the old song “Squaws Along the Yukon” ringing in my head, memories of my dad strumming his guitar and singing that song over the years (including just last night for Hazelnut - maybe even for the last time), flashed wildly through my mind.

I knew this was where I needed to be. I felt like, even though my heart was breaking, nothing mattered in this moment except letting him know I am here with him and he is not alone. At the same time, I, myself, have never felt so alone in my life. How could I feel so alone right now when I have, what others describe as, a huge circle of friends and a wide network of people who care for me? How is it possible that I always find myself alone at times when being alone is the very last thing I need?! Even with texts of care. Even with offers for food delivery. Even with my Mom trading shifts with me. The second chair sat empty at all times.

As usual, I took the struggle inward to a place of personal reflection, trying to find the lesson I was intended to learn in such a moment. While racing thoughts of self-reflection rolled through my mind, like a sea of tumbleweeds in a dust storm, I started to quickly turn on myself. I started the blame game - I was "it" and had nobody else to tag. I began blaming myself for having to step back from most of my volunteer and community service, maybe everyone was mad at me. Blaming myself for being unavailable to others these past couple of years, maybe I was a bad friend for being too busy. Blaming myself for saying “no” instead of my usual “yes” when asked to participate in things lately, maybe I was forgotten. Blaming myself for…? I don’t even know how to explain it. Blaming myself for people pleasing, I suppose. Because in that moment I realized that so much of my identity had been formed around connections that may have only been true and authentic for me, not those I had served. Sure, maybe I am just tired and being overly emotional, but hey, that's what this page is for and I am going to keep on being real and raw with you. This is how I feel right now, and it's okay if today is one of those glass half empty days. We are all entitled.

Over the years I've built a "giving" identity, which I am still actually quite proud of. But so much of my character has been centered on acts of service, which I have been so happily busy with, that I had lost the ability to identify what I was personally about, apart from all that. By constantly doing for others, I never really paused to notice how alone the rest of my existence had become. I am now starting to think that maybe people never really knew or saw me at all, but instead only saw the ways I could do for, be for, or give to, them in one way or another.

If this is the case, I realize I only have myself to blame; but, even when you know you have to take accountability for your part in a problem, the feeling isn’t any less painful or embarrassing. So why not share it here, where others can find some validation or comfort of their own – maybe even some inspiration from it.  So with that said, let’s talk about when we, as people pleasers, have to step back or pull away.

People pleasers often build their identities around being there for others—showing up, saying yes, holding space, and being the dependable one. They’re the ones who check in, volunteer, remember birthdays, and sacrifice their own time-energy-and needs to make others feel loved and supported. It’s not always because they feel forced to, but because it feels like who they are.

But life happens. A parent gets sick. A child needs more. A spouse is struggling. Or maybe their own mental or physical health finally demands attention. And suddenly, the people pleaser has to do something unfamiliar: they have to say no. And it doesn't feel natural to them. It feels selfish, no matter how necessary.

They do it anyway, because they have to. They step back. They stop texting first. They stop attending everything. They become unavailable in the ways they always were. And that’s when something painful happens—they start to notice who checks in and who doesn’t. Who sticks around and who fades. Who values them even during lapses in their giving or lack of time commitment. They start to wonder who was really their friend, and who just enjoyed the convenience of them.

And that can feel deeply lonely. Because when your worth has been tied to how much you can give, it’s disorienting to realize that the moment you stop giving, some connections just… vanish. You start to wonder if they were ever really your people at all - or if you were just a role in their lives.

But maybe this season isn’t about losing people. Maybe it’s about finally seeing clearly. And maybe, in the quiet, new kinds of relationships can emerge—ones rooted not in what you do for others, but in who you are when you’re simply being. And those are the kinds of connections worth waiting for. Save that empty seat, and try not to be sad about it. Gladly save it it for the right person/people, instead of trying to occupy it with the masses.