I am overly accommodating, to a fault. 

I don’t just want approval, I want to feel as though there’s nothing else left to criticize.

I chase praise and reassurance. When making decisions, I constantly look for signs saying I made the correct choice. If the response isn’t close to excitement and praise, I’m unsatisfied. I adjust my choices, downplaying myself. 

If I think someone is mad at me, I’m the first message you’ll see pop up on their phone. I’ll apologize, micro-adjust my tone, and wonder if I came off wrong, hoping I’m able to stop the beginning of resentment someone has toward me before it even sprouts.

I change myself before anyone else can. I dismiss my thoughts before they’re allowed to become opinions. 

I grew up with an image-focused parent who worried about others’ perception.

They criticized my sense-of-self and appearance as if there was a public report card waiting to be sent to them. I was given love, with conditions. I was given criticism, with no warning. The irony was that whenever I tried to change myself for them, I was hit with questions on why I’m changing. 

“If you dress like that, what will they think of you?” 

“Look at all those pimples on your face. Why don’t you do anything about it?” 

“Did you gain weight?”

“I wish you were still a kid again.”

I grew up with a highly sensitive parent who didn’t respect my comfort. Setting boundaries felt impossible; they would react as if I did something terrible. If things escalated and I didn’t give them the response they wanted, I was met with the same phrase I’d heard multiple times: “I don’t love you anymore.” Those words weren’t unfamiliar to me.

I didn’t see boundaries as normal — I saw them as rejection, something to take offense to, not something I was allowed to have. I’d adjust my tone, my facial expressions and my emotions. I believed expressing opinions and seeming unaccommodating was the cause of upsetting the balance at home. 

At the same time, I believe that potential is reached when it’s not trapped in constant thoughts of what anyone thinks. I believe that authenticity is lived through being unapologetic. I just didn’t know how to fully live like that yet. 

But as I grow older, and spend more time with my friends, I recognize there are multiple ways to live. Being exposed to people beyond my parents taught me to learn to say no to constant demands and prioritize my mental health.

I learned love isn’t conditional; I don’t need praise to be loved. I don’t need reminders of how I used to be the sweetest kid in the past. 

I’m learning to prioritize myself, without guilt. 

I still feel the way I did, but I’m slowly learning with the help of my friends that vulnerability isn’t a weakness, and boundaries aren’t rejections -– but a way to stay in connection with yourself.