Mistakes I Made Trying to Please Everyone

For a long time, I thought being a good person meant being agreeable. Easygoing. Understanding. I believed that if I could just keep everyone comfortable, everything would work out.

I was wrong.

Trying to please everyone didn’t make my life more peaceful—it made it confusing, exhausting, and quietly painful. And the biggest cost wasn’t burnout. It was losing pieces of myself along the way.

I said yes when I meant no

I agreed to things that didn’t feel right because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone. I stayed silent when I should have spoken up. I convinced myself that my discomfort was less important than keeping the peace.

Over time, that silence turned into resentment—toward others, and toward myself.

I stood for things that went against my values

This one is hard to admit.

In trying to fit in, I tolerated opinions and behaviors that didn’t align with what I believe in. Sometimes I laughed along. Sometimes I avoided the conversation entirely. Sometimes I told myself, “It’s not that serious.”

But it was serious. Every time I compromised my values to avoid conflict, I felt a little more disconnected from who I actually am.

I lost friends anyway

Here’s the cruel irony: even after bending and shrinking and adjusting, I still lost friends.

Some drifted away because I wasn’t being real. Others only knew the version of me that was convenient for them. When I finally started setting boundaries—or stopped agreeing with everything—the dynamic broke.

That’s when I learned something painful but freeing:
People who only like you when you’re agreeable don’t actually like you.

I confused being liked with being respected

I thought approval was the same as acceptance. It’s not.

Being liked is fragile—it depends on how useful, quiet, or flexible you are. Respect is sturdier. It comes from knowing who you are and standing by it, even when it’s uncomfortable.

I chased the wrong one.

I forgot to check in with myself

When you’re constantly scanning the room for other people’s reactions, you stop listening to your own voice. I didn’t ask myself what I wanted or what I believed—I asked what would cause the least friction.

That’s not living. That’s surviving.

What I’ve learned instead

I’m still unlearning people-pleasing, but here’s what I know now: discomfort isn’t the enemy—dishonesty is. You can be kind and still have boundaries, and losing people who require you to betray yourself is not a failure. Being true to your values will cost you some relationships, but it will also save you from losing yourself in the process.

I’d rather be temporarily misunderstood than permanently disconnected from who I am.

If you’re trying to please everyone and wondering why it still hurts—this might be why. And if you’re starting to choose yourself, even when it’s messy and lonely, you’re not doing it wrong.

You’re finally doing it honestly.