People pleasing enters its reckoning era
Polite burnout and why 2026 belongs to the reformed yes-person
“You do say yes to a lot of things,” remarked my husband this week, as I was dashing out the door, toast in hand, for another early morning meeting.
We’re all feeling a bit overcommitted at this time of year. And part of me wouldn’t have it any other way. I mean, what a privilege to have lots of friends to see, lots of work to do and lots of things to fit in.
But as I ran to catch the bus, on my way to a meeting that could probably have been an email, I listened to the latest episode of Complex, the BBC podcast from chartered psychologist Kimberley Wilson.
“Are you consistently saying yes, when you would rather say no?” she asked. “Or neglecting your own needs to the benefit of those around you?”
Errrrrm… I mean, perhaps sometimes I’d rather say no, I thought to myself, quickly adding (even to myself), but I’m honestly fine either way! No worries if not!
The episode is about people pleasing, and it’s really worth a listen. I realised there are many ways in which I have said “I don’t mind” or “it’s fine” when I do, and it’s not.
For instance, I don’t like eating meat, I never have. I was a vegetarian between the ages of eight and 16: the window between realising I have a bit of autonomy about food, and peer pressure really kicking in. For years, I’d never cook meat at home or order it in a restaurant. But, if I went to someone’s house, I’d politely eat the meat they’d prepared, and then feel sick all night. In retrospect: why? My determination not to inconvenience anyone meant that I suffered in silence, when would anyone have cared if I just said that I don’t eat meat? Of course not! I know this now because I tell people that I don’t eat meat and it’s literally never a problem.
That’s one area where I’ve realised that I can say what I want, and people respect it. But there are plenty of other ways in which I’m too busy politely doing what’s expected of me to think about how I actually feel.
People pleasing is going to be a big topic in 2026.
Fearne Cotton’s new nonfiction book, Likeable: How I Broke Free From The Need To Please, is out in March. And in April, Bryony Gordon’s novel, People Pleaser, tells the story of a “likeable” woman who takes a blue pill and wakes up - as the tagline says - “fresh out of fucks.”
This week I went to the launch of Suzy Reading’s new book, How to Be Selfish: 7 Steps To Taking Back Your Power, and found a room full of women talking about the ways in which they wish they had fewer fucks to give. “It’s not about being a selfish arsehole,” said Suzy in her speech. “It’s just about living life like we matter, too.”
So, if you’re often left feeling anxious and wrung-out because you’ve agreed to take on extra work for which you don’t have the capacity, or you’ve agreed to go to a hen do that you can’t afford and are dreading, then it’s so important to be aware that if you continue to live up to certain expectations then people will continue to have those expectations of you.
We all know people who do things badly so that they won’t be asked to do them again (intentionally or not, I don’t know). There’s even a name for it: weaponised incompetence. But there has to be a middle ground between burning yourself out by meeting every expectation, and flagrantly not meeting any expectations at all.
I kind of hate the word “boundaries” because so often it’s used a licence to be a dick. Also, the word just makes me cringe. But it’s important to have some kind of rules around what is and isn’t okay for you.
(Side point: interviewed on the Liz Moody podcast this week, Oliver Burkeman made the argument that “cringe” is often a reaction to a personal vulnerability, and perhaps we should all try to lean into it a bit more. Easier said than done, I know.)
If you’re stuck in a people pleasing pattern, and other people’s expectations of you are making it hard to break out, here’s what to do.
