The Approval We Never Knew We Were Seeking

“The moment you stop seeking approval is the moment you begin returning to yourself.”

There is a particular kind of exhaustion that comes from constantly considering how other people might feel about you.

Not because you don’t care about yourself. Quite the opposite. Somewhere along the way, you may have learned that keeping other people comfortable was the safest way to feel comfortable within yourself.

So you become the understanding one. The accommodating one. The person who can read a room before anyone has even spoken. You anticipate disappointment, soften your words, explain your intentions and occasionally say yes when something deep within you is quietly saying no.

From the outside, it looks like kindness. Sometimes it genuinely is.

Yet underneath, there can be something else entirely.

A need to be liked. To be accepted. To be understood. To know that nobody is upset with you, disappointed in you, or thinking something about you that you cannot control.

This is where people-pleasing becomes psychologically interesting. Because often, we aren’t consciously trying to please anyone. We’re trying to avoid the discomfort of what might happen if we don’t.

Disapproval. Rejection. Conflict. The possibility of being misunderstood.

For some, these patterns were learned early in life, when being agreeable, useful or emotionally attuned to others became a way of maintaining connection. Over time, that adaptation can become so familiar that we mistake it for our personality.

What began as a way of feeling safe can quietly become a way of losing ourselves.

I know this territory well. I used to be a people-pleaser. Not in every situation, and certainly not without a mind of my own, but I cared far too much about how I was perceived. I could find myself explaining things that needed no explanation, carrying responsibility for other people’s feelings, or questioning perfectly reasonable decisions because someone else wasn’t happy with them.

Years of inner work, uncomfortable truths, growth and a great deal of self-awareness have changed that relationship.

I wouldn’t claim the instinct disappears entirely. We’re human. We want to belong. We want to be loved. We want to feel understood.

The difference now is recognising when kindness is coming from a genuine desire to give, and when it’s being driven by a need to receive something in return.

Approval is a subtle currency. We don’t always realise how much we’re spending to earn it.

There’s another side to this, too. When you finally recognise these patterns, it’s tempting to swing to the opposite extreme. To become fiercely protective, overly detached, almost proud of how little you care.

I’ve come to believe that isn’t freedom either. Sometimes it’s simply another way of allowing our past experiences to dictate how we show up.

Real self-assurance doesn’t need to announce itself. It doesn’t require everyone to agree with you, nor does it need to prove how unaffected you are.

You can disappoint someone without having done anything wrong. You can be misunderstood without immediately correcting the narrative. You can be deeply compassionate without assuming responsibility for everybody else’s emotional experience.

Perhaps most importantly, you can remain open-hearted without making yourself endlessly available.

The most rebellious thing you can do in a world that can harden us is to remain soft, without abandoning yourself.

To me, that’s what becoming truly unfuckwithable means. Not being untouchable, unfeeling or indifferent. Simply being so anchored in who you are that another person’s response no longer determines your relationship with yourself.

There is a quiet confidence in knowing your intentions, trusting your decisions and allowing other people the freedom to have their own feelings.

You don’t have to manage every perception. You don’t have to earn your place in every room. You don’t have to keep proving that you’re a good person.

Sometimes the deepest work isn’t learning how to say no.

It’s understanding why saying no ever felt so dangerous.

Your Golden Invitation

This week, notice the moments when you feel compelled to explain yourself, soften a boundary or seek reassurance. Before responding, get curious about what’s really driving that impulse.

Are you acting from love, or from the fear of what might happen if someone doesn’t approve?

There’s no judgement in the answer. Only awareness. And awareness is where the choice begins.

I’d love to know what this brings up for you. Perhaps it’s a conversation we don’t have nearly enough.

With Love

Jenna 💛