When Did Being a "Good Girl" Mean Abandoning Yourself?
- Anjana Nambissan

- Jun 19
- 3 min read

From the moment many of us are born, we are taught how to be "good."
Be polite.
Be helpful.
Think of others.
Don't be selfish.
Don't make people uncomfortable.
Don't talk back.
Don't be difficult.
And somewhere along the way, many women learn a lesson that was never spoken out loud:
Everyone else's needs matter more than yours.
In most cultures, girls are praised for being accommodating, sacrificing, and putting others first. We celebrate the woman who gives endlessly, the mother who never rests, the daughter who never disappoints, the wife who keeps the peace at all costs.
But I often wonder...
Why is self-sacrifice glorified?
Why are we still teaching women that their worth comes from how much they can give away?
And perhaps the more important question is:
Are we unknowingly teaching this to our daughters too?
Can our daughters express their truth?
Can they tell us when they are angry, sad, disappointed, or hurt?
Can they say no?
Can they have preferences, opinions, likes, and dislikes without fear of rejection?
Or are they learning what many of us learned - that being loved means being agreeable?
Somewhere along the way, "listen" stopped meaning "hear and understand."
It started meaning:
Be quiet. Obey. Don't make waves.
I know this pattern intimately because it was my life.
For as long as I can remember, I was the good girl.
I didn't know there was another way to live.
I didn't know my needs mattered.
I didn't know my desires mattered.
I didn't know my voice mattered.
The idea that I could actually ask myself what I wanted felt foreign.
Even uncomfortable.
Because when you've spent a lifetime prioritizing everyone else, choosing yourself can feel wrong.
It can feel selfish.
It can feel unsafe.
The healing journey often begins with a simple but revolutionary realization:
My needs count too.
My feelings matter.
My dreams matter.
My likes and dislikes matter.
My voice matters.
And once you begin to believe that, life starts asking something new of you.
You begin setting boundaries.
You start saying no.
Not because you're becoming less caring.
But because you're finally learning how to care for yourself.
And sometimes, saying no to others is the first way we learn to say yes to ourselves.
Recently, I read the book Fawning, and it completely changed the way I view people-pleasing.
For years, people-pleasing was often described as manipulation - being nice to get something in return.
But trauma-informed perspectives offer a much deeper understanding.
What if people-pleasing isn't manipulation at all?
What if it's a survival strategy?
What if the child learned that staying safe meant keeping everyone happy?
What if saying yes prevented conflict?
What if being agreeable prevented rejection?
What if pleasing others was the best solution available at the time?
Suddenly, people-pleasing looks very different.
Instead of judgment, we can bring compassion.
Instead of shame, we can bring understanding.
Because most people-pleasers were never trying to control anyone.
They were trying to feel safe.
And that changes everything.
Imagine what becomes possible when we begin to unlearn these patterns.
Imagine discovering that, as adults, we can be safe without constantly managing other people's emotions.
Imagine realizing that someone else's disappointment doesn't have to become our emergency.
Imagine trusting that we can survive a disagreement.
A boundary.
A no.
A different opinion.
I am still in awe of this realization.
Because if we no longer have to spend our lives earning permission to exist, then what becomes possible?
What dreams return?
What parts of ourselves come alive?
What would happen if we stopped shrinking and started fully inhabiting who we are?
Perhaps recovery from people-pleasing isn't about becoming selfish.
Perhaps it's about becoming whole.
It's about remembering that we were never put on this earth to disappear into everyone else's expectations.
We were meant to experience life.
To express ourselves.
To create.
To dream.
To love.
To be.
The world is not something we must constantly earn our place in.
We belong here already.
And maybe the greatest act of healing is finally believing it.
What might become possible if you stopped living for everyone else's expectations and started honoring your own truth? If you're ready to explore that question and begin your journey back to yourself, I invite you to book a complimentary Discovery Call. https://calendar.app.google/fBHfqiEsTdGFGimKA
Together, we'll explore where you are, what's holding you back, and the next steps toward the life you truly want.



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