If you think you’re a people pleaser, do not proceed to read this. Or maybe do. That’s your call. I’m not here to tell you what to do… unless you asked me to, in which case… that’s kind of the point. And if you happen to be someone who likes spreading yourself thin in exchange for a few nods, then maybe I’ll be here, too, raising my hands high with you.

Let’s talk about people-pleasing. It’s not inherently bad. In fact, in some cases, it can come from a good place and perhaps result in good outcomes. But when you start wearing it like a brand, parading yourself to the world with all your “yeses” and trying to shake everyone’s hand, it becomes a tad bit complicated. From a psychological viewpoint, people-pleasing often stems from the need for validation. And whether we admit it or not, it’s actually more self-serving than people-serving.

Because the thing is—people-pleasing isn’t as noble as it looks. At its core, it’s not about helping others but about managing how others see you. Controlling perceptions, maintaining peace, avoiding confrontation, and feeding the illusion that you’re “agreeable.” And in trying so hard to meet those expectations, you lose touch with your own. 

Take a look at student politics. Halalan season comes around, and suddenly every candidate is fluent in promises. Platforms sound like wishlists. You’ll hear pledges of transparency, accountability, and representation with a touch of rehearsed sincerity. 

These words can quickly evaporate into protecting the image they sold during campaign season, rather than the genuine drive to make a change. It’s the same kind of fantasy logic that gave us promises like P20-per-kilo rice during the national elections. And we all know how that turned out. In doing so, they lose grip of the hard part of leadership: making difficult decisions, setting boundaries, and carving their own path even when it’s not what people want to hear.

While it may come off as generous, people-pleasing can easily veer into manipulation. When you answer with endless nods despite wanting to disagree deep down, you become dishonest. It starts to become less about keeping peace and more about keeping face. In the context of student leadership, it’s what turns a platform into a performance. They end up using niceness like a campaign tool, not because they want to help, but because they want to be approved.

Really, people-pleasing can come in many forms. It could be your blockmate who says yes to every group task and quietly resents it. It could be a friend who can’t say no to emotional labor. It could be you. It could be me. When your goal is driven by the need to be liked, you abandon conviction for applause, relying on curated niceness to get you through hard questions. But people-pleasing isn’t passive; it’s strategic. It reshapes action into performance, promise into illusion. And in the process, you lose not just your direction, but your sense of self. And the more you play that part, the harder it gets to be honest. Not just with others, but with yourself.

This entails the need to find a way back—to your own voice, your own wants, your own sense of self that isn’t constantly bending for approval.

To stop treating validation as currency. To disappoint people sometimes, and be okay with that.

And maybe that starts with unlearning the applause. If that’s okay?

Originally published in Heraldo Filipino Volume 39, Issue 2