Eulogy to my People Pleaser
We are, or rather I am, gathered here today to lay to rest a big part of me. Yes, today is the day I say goodbye to my – well, she went by many names – but I’ll just call her simply, my People Pleaser.
I won’t lie, it’s not easy to say goodbye. In fact, it’s one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. She’s been a part of me from the beginning, my constant companion.
What can I say about her? She was lovely. Sweet. So polite. Never had a bad word to say about anybody. She always did whatever anyone asked. Never argued. Never even raised her voice. Bless her heart, she was the perfect southern lady through and through.
Oh, I’ve cried. And I’ll cry more. But not because I’ll miss her. No, my tears will be because, today, I realized I should’ve killed that bitch a long time ago.
See without her, I might’ve started my own company sooner. I may have stood up more than stood still. I may have wasted less time in a disastrous relationship and created more time for a healthy one. And I may have, just maybe, come closer to realizing my hopes and dreams.
But, that’s okay. I got to where I am today with her. And I’m grateful that we got this far together. But today I can see the road I want to take and it’s nowhere near wide enough for both of us.
So I say to you, my People Pleaser, rest in peace. Your job here is done.
On second thought, you know what? Suck it.
You didn’t serve me. You never even did what you were supposed to do. You didn’t make people like me more. All your agreeing and placating, and smiling when I really felt like screaming, never did anything but weaken me and make me, ironically, a whole lot less desirable.
And if I ever long for you, or am tempted to resurrect you, I’ll just remind myself of the strong, wise women who managed to live their lives brilliantly without you.
Women like Eleanor Roosevelt. Rosa Parks. Gloria Steinem still does.
“Well behaved women seldom make history.”
I may not ever make history, but I’m sure as hell going to go out trying. And that means burying you. Here and now. So, so long Ms. Oh-my-God-I-have-to-be-perfect. I’m off to discover who I am without you.
And if people don’t like it? SIGH. I don’t know. But, I’ll figure it out.