The Pains of People-Pleasing and the Hope that Heals

“I ran ten miles today, and I probably won’t be able to swim very fast,” I remember explaining to my swim coach one evening back in eighth grade.

“So? You still have to try hard.”

Ouch.

I hadn’t expected that response. To be honest, I had expected my coach to applaud me for pushing myself so hard. And looking back, I was pushing myself too hard.

Back then, it seemed that whenever I pushed myself past my limits, it was never enough. I always tried hard, but I had to try even harder.

Shivering, I headed to the pool for another practice under that dark winter sky.

Another hour of kicking off the wall, only to feel the worst pain in my legs. Another hour of going underwater, only to quickly run out of breath.

And another hour of giving my all, only to fall further behind.

Just swim faster, I was always told. Just give a little more effort.

Only I didn’t have anything left to give.

What the world sees

At the beginning of the eighth grade, I had gotten a new coach. To him, I was just another mediocre swimmer.

The people-pleaser in me never liked being mediocre.

But that October, it all seemed to change. I had my first official cross-country race, and I finished in third. It was a small race, but to me, it meant more. It reassured my insecure heart that I had finally gotten somewhere.

And later that same day, at swim practice, my coach discovered that I was one of the fastest backstroke swimmers in the pool. He moved me up from the mediocre lanes to the fastest lanes for our backstroke workouts.

I felt more confident, getting into the pool and feeling like I had earned my place there.

But I could only hold that place for so long.

After just a few months, my health crashed.

And I turned into the girl who was always being told to swim faster, always running out of breath, always being asked to give more from the bottom of a well long dry.

I couldn’t even keep up with the slowest pace anymore. And the little voice in my head constantly whispered, You’re a disappointment.

You’re a disappointment. Everyone’s looking at you and thinking about how much you’ve failed.

I don’t know how much of that last part was even true. I don’t know what my coach thought of me then, or what my teammates thought of me then, or if anyone even noticed or cared.

But why should their thoughts matter? They couldn’t feel my exhaustion; they hadn’t seen what I put myself through.

The world will never fully understand what it’s like to be you. And that’s why people-pleasing hurts so much.

The world only sees what you put on the outside. It never sees the tears you cry in the bathroom stall—

Or the injuries you ice each night—

Or the war going on inside your head.

But God does.

And shouldn’t His thoughts matter more?

What God sees

“The Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”

~1 Samuel 16:7, ESV

God sees your heart. A heart that still keeps beating even through the pain.

He sees your heart, with all your broken parts and the scars that you try to hide. With your secret sins and your messy thoughts.

He sees underneath that “perfect” mask you try—and sometimes fail—to wear on the outside as your way of pleasing the world.

He sees it all, and He still loves you anyway.

Ever since I was little, Psalm 139 has comforted me, because there’s something so powerful about knowing that Someone—your Creator—understands your thoughts. Especially when it so often feels that you’re living inside your own head.

O Lord, You have searched me and known me.
² You know my sitting down and my rising up;
You understand my thought afar off.
³ You comprehend my path and my lying down,
And are acquainted with all my ways.

~Psalm 139:1-3, NKJV

I have so many memories of reciting this Psalm to myself through a blur of tears or rushed breaths, finding refuge in the hope that I am seen.

Seen and loved.

Confidence in the wrong places

At my peak that October in eighth grade, my swim teammates caught on that I was fast when it came to backstroke. My classmates at school caught on that I was strong when it came to distance running.

And a lot of times, they complimented me for it.

Whenever they said those words of praise, my heart felt like it could soar. I valued their words too much. So much that their words became my source of confidence.

It’s amazing how quickly your confidence can fade when it’s rooted in the wrong places.

I don’t want the sound of applause to be what keeps me going. Because sometimes, the applause will stop. Sometimes, I have to run in total silence.

It takes strength to run through the silence.

Many of us athletes have this desire to please others. If you play a sport, you probably know what I’m talking about. You want people to look at you and think that you’re fast, you’re strong, you’ve earned your place on the team.

When I was fast at backstroke, my swim coach paid more attention to me. But when my health declined, I seemed to fade into the background again.

And that hurt.

When you get treated differently based on how you perform, that hurts.

But it also pointed me to the never-changing love of Christ.

Because in our weakest moments, His Spirit is there (Rom. 8:26). When our heart is breaking, He is near (Ps. 34:18). And through our mistakes, He will always offer us His grace (Heb. 4:16).

In His eyes, we can never fade into the background.

Working for the Lord and not for people

And while the world will always ask of you for something more than you can give, God only asks for your heart.

A heart that will pursue Him step by step, even through the falls.

“Whatever you do, do it from the heart, as something done for the Lord and not for people, ²⁴ knowing that you will receive the reward of an inheritance from the Lord. You serve the Lord Christ.”

~Colossians 3:23-24, CSB

I’ve always thought about this verse as a calling to exemplify a strong work ethic.

And it is—It’s a calling to work in a way that involves your whole heart. To work in a way that glorifies God.

But now, I also see it as a calling to recognize that working for God—and His glory—looks incredibly different from working for the world’s approval.

Yes, in many ways it’s harder to work for the Lord. He wants your full commitment; He wants you to swim against the tide; He wants you to keep running even in the silence.

But working for the Lord… It’s different. It brings you real fulfillment, a sort of peace you can’t imagine, and the restoration that your weary soul so deeply needs…

And it doesn’t involve fighting to earn your place. He doesn’t ask you to work yourself to the bone. He doesn’t ask you to keep going faster or pushing harder when you’ve fallen behind, weak and broken.

Instead He asks for you to come to Him and seek His rest (Matt. 11:28). To seek His grace (Heb. 4:16). And to do so with all your heart.

And when you’re crawling on your hands and knees, that’s where you’ll find Him. You’ll find Him when you’re on your knees in prayer. Praying as the sun rises and sets, the tide ebbs and flows, the city lights go on and off. Fighting on your knees as the world continues in its rushed pace.

It requires a quiet sort of strength to carry on even as the world walks right past you.

This world will not see or value all that you do in this life. There will be times when it feels that no one hears the beat of your heart as it presses through the pain. There will be times when it feels that no one will hear your quiet song of praise amidst the storm.

No one except for God. Those are the times when you’ll find yourself drawing all the more nearer to Him.

“Don’t work only while being watched, as people-pleasers, but work wholeheartedly, fearing the Lord.”

~Colossians 3:22, CSB

He wants you to run through the silence, because living for Christ doesn’t mean living for the world.

Just follow Me, He says. Follow Me with all your heart.

The beautiful thing about serving the Lord is that it’s not about what you do on the outside. It’s not about how you perform or who you please in this world.

No, it’s all about the heart. It’s all about what this world can’t see.

Have you given your heart to Him?

Well done, good and faithful servant

So much of this life involves pouring out your heart.

Pouring out your heart into your training, hoping that it’ll show in the coming season.

Pouring out your heart into what you create, hoping that it’ll resonate with an audience.

And pouring out your heart into service, hoping that it’ll make someone’s day.

But after pouring it out so many times, do you ever wonder what you have left? Is all that’s left a well long dry? A heart struggling to beat?

And when you feel that no one sees you, when you’re running through the silence, when you don’t get the response that you had hoped for…

Just know that if you’re following your Savior, He’ll one day tells you these words:

“Well done, good and faithful servant” (Matt. 25:23).

He already sees you.

He already loves you.

And as for your well long dry, He’ll fill it with His living water.

It’s how I found healing, and I’m praying the same for you. <3