10/01/2026
I’ve been a bit quieter over Christmas.
That was intentional.
I needed the space to slow down and reflect.
One thing that’s stayed with me is how much of my life I spent trying to be liked.
Not loudly.
Just quietly shaping myself around other people.
I was a chronic people pleaser.
If everyone else was ok, I could breathe.
If they weren’t, my anxiety went through the roof and I’d do whatever I could to keep the peace.
Looking back, I can see where that came from.
When you grow up feeling anxious, or learning that love comes with conditions, you get good at reading rooms.
You learn to adapt.
You learn to stay small.
You learn that your needs come last.
And then, oddly enough, I thought about olives 🤢
I absolutely hate them.
No reason.
No logic.
I just don’t like them.
And it hit me …that’s how some people will feel about me.
Not because I’ve done anything wrong.
Just because I’m not their taste.
Which basically makes me a bit like Marmite.
Some people will like me.
Some won’t.
And neither is a problem.
That realisation was freeing.
Because anxiety and trauma have a way of convincing you that being disliked means danger.
That you need to fix yourself.
That you need to try harder.
But you don’t.
You’re allowed to stop performing.
You’re allowed to take up space.
You’re allowed to be yourself even if that means some people don’t get you.
People come and go.
The one person you’ll spend your whole life with is yourself, so it’s worth getting comfortable with that.
And for anyone who grew up anxious, hyper-aware, or always trying to keep everyone happy…
learning that you don’t have to be for everyone can be one of the most healing realisations there is.
