A reflection for the kind-hearted misfits and people-pleasing introverts…
Published August 1, 2025
Brené Brown has said, “True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.”
It’s a quote that sounds empowering and maybe even hopeful. But if you’re someone who has spent a lifetime people-pleasing, over-apologizing, and quietly adjusting yourself to fit in, it might also sting a little.
Because what if being yourself has never felt safe?
Many people-pleasing introverts, especially those who are deeply sensitive, empathic, or tuned into others, learn early on that kindness can be a survival strategy. When you sense tension in a room, you diffuse it. When someone’s upset, you take responsibility. When you’re hurt, you stay quiet. You try to be likable, helpful, adaptable, believing that if you’re just kind enough, soft enough, good enough, maybe you’ll finally feel like you belong.
But here’s the hard truth: kindness doesn’t always buy you safety. In fact, it can become the mask you wear to hide your loneliness.
As a therapist, I work with many clients—often quiet, thoughtful, emotionally attuned folks—who’ve spent their lives performing likability. And I always wonder, at what cost? Chronic anxiety, self-doubt, and a painful sense that they’re only welcome when they’re suppressing parts of themselves.
If you were raised in a family, culture, or community that didn’t know what to do with your sensitivity or depth, you probably learned to minimize yourself, to say the “right” thing, to smile through discomfort. You became a master at anticipating others’ needs, but at the expense of your own.
So when someone says, “Just be yourself,” it might not feel liberating. In fact, it might feel like a setup. Which version of you is actually welcome? The quiet one? The accommodating one? The one who never makes waves?
Here’s what I want you to hear:
Your longing to belong is not a weakness.
Your kindness is not a flaw.
And you don’t have to contort yourself to earn connection.
Therapy can be one of the few places where you’re not asked to perform, fix, or smile through it. It can be a space to begin untangling who you are from who you’ve had to be. Where belonging is built through honesty, not approval.
And if you’ve always felt like an outsider, like you were never quite “in” with your peers, like your quietness was mistaken for disinterest, like your overthinking made you weird, you’re not broken. You’re a person who’s adapted beautifully to a world that hasn’t always valued introspection or emotional intelligence.
Maybe you weren’t meant to fit into a shallow version of community: Maybe you’re here to help create a deeper one.