When Being “Nice” Is Just Anxiety in a Cardigan
Here’s a fun party trick no one asked for: I can sense someone else’s disappointment before they’ve even said a word—and immediately start over-functioning to fix it. Is it emotional intuition? Trauma response? Answer: a fun mixture of both.
The truth is, I spent most of my life as a people pleaser. I didn’t call it that, of course. I called it being kind. Being helpful. Being “the reliable one.” But underneath all that generosity was a desperate need to be liked, needed, and accepted. Especially in environments where being my full self never quite felt safe.
And when you’re compartmentalizing—when different parts of you are allowed to show up in specific spaces—you get really good at reading the room. Because you have to. Because if you mess up the mask, the whole thing cracks.
Spoiler: eventually, it cracked.
The High Cost of Being Everything to Everyone
There’s this weird thing that happens when you spend your life trying to be what others need: you kind of forget what you need. Or want. Or even like. (Do I actually enjoy this book, or do I just think I’m supposed to enjoy it because everyone else does and I said I read it but didn’t actually read it? ADHD is a trip.)
Compartmentalizing starts off as protection. But over time, it becomes confusion:
Who am I with this group?
What version of me did I show that person?
Did I say yes because I wanted to, or because I was afraid to say no?
Burnout becomes inevitable—not just the physical kind, but emotional burnout. The kind where even rest doesn’t feel restful, because you’re unconsciously still scrolling through the list of roles you’re supposed to be playing.
The ADHD Plot Twist (That Made Everything Make More Sense)
Years into adulthood, I was finally diagnosed with ADHD. And suddenly, all of my masking, people-pleasing, over-explaining, and occasional lying-to-blend-in moments made sense. (Yes, I said I saw that movie. No, I did not.)
Turns out, a lot of neurodivergent folks learn to mask early. Not because we’re trying to be deceptive—but because we’re trying to be accepted in a world that wasn’t exactly built for our wiring. The tiny lies, the performance, the self-erasure—it’s all just a big, messy survival strategy.
And like most survival strategies, it works—until it doesn’t.
From “I’ll Do It!” to “Actually, No Thanks.”
The more I started practicing authenticity—bringing my full self into every space—the more I started noticing when things felt off. Not because I was acting differently, but because something around me wasn’t aligned.
That was a game changer.
Because when you stop shape-shifting, your patterns become more obvious. You can actually see the warning signs of burnout. You notice when your body is sending signals of stress or overwhelm. You learn the difference between a gut instinct and a people-pleasing reflex.
And while I’m still a recovering Enneagram 2 (shoutout to my fellow emotional support humans), I’ve come a long way. Now, when I feel myself slipping into Helper Mode™ for validation, I pause. I ask myself: Am I doing this from love—or from fear of being unlovable?
Sometimes the answer still stings. Sometimes I still do it. But at least I’m asking.
A Quick Practice
Before you say yes to something this week—big or small—ask yourself:
Is this something I want to do, or something I feel obligated to do?
Am I saying yes because I’m afraid of what will happen if I say no?
What would I choose if I trusted that I was enough, even without proving it?
Just pausing to ask can completely shift the pattern.
Final Thought: Your Worth Isn’t Measured by How Much You Can Carry
Compartmentalizing is like carrying a bunch of suitcases—you can get pretty good at it, but eventually your arms start to shake. You’re allowed to put them down. You’re allowed to say no. You’re allowed to be seen not as a collection of helpful traits, but as a whole, complicated, wonderful person.
Because being liked is nice. But being known? That’s where freedom is.