I’m a people pleaser.

I’m a people pleaser.

In a way, at least.

Now I’m not gonna serve you some popular psychology crap about what it means and I’m also not going to tell you how I overcame it.

Because I didn’t, and there’s a good reason for it.

I like pleasing people.

In a fairly dedicated but non-obsessive way, I do what I can to make things pleasurable and joyful.

I don’t see that as a problem.

I don’t consider it to be a flaw, a defect, or something I should work on or change or hide.

It just feels good to make people feel good.

But here’s the thing: I please people exactly the way I want to please people.

There’s no denying my own needs.

The pleasing is completely on my terms.

It just looks like I know what it takes to bring a good vibe to a situation, and I happen to like good vibes.

I seem to have a keen sense of changing moods, and I like to bring that into the world.

People don’t have to agree with it, of course.

It happens quite regularly that my radiating smile and naughty, shiny eyes go completely unnoticed by people who are lost in complexity and stress.

That’s okay.

My people pleasing is more like throwing around a bunch of colorful flowers from a basket that never runs out of flowers, so it can’t fail or go wrong.

People don’t have to please me back.

They don’t have to like it.

But I do.