I’m a recovering people pleaser. My penchant for people pleasing stems from rejection. Some of my desires to please are genuinely steeped in service. Extending mercy and exuding empathy toward the suffering felt as natural to me as my green-gold eyes. But I also remember times when my actions sprung from fear, so I decided that in order to live a happy life, I must keep those around me happy.
I didn’t realize I was practicing a form of idolatry, I mean . . . what harm is there in being nice?
Ironically, I wasn’t always nice. Please join me at (in)courage for the rest of the story.