People-pleasing in Addiction Recovery: How I Learned to Set Boundaries and Start Healing

The worst part? I was doing it all with a smile. You’d never know I was drowning by looking at my facial expressions. I had perfected the art of hiding my exhaustion, stuffing down my true self, and showing up for people who would never do the same for me.

I didn’t realize how often I said yes when I wanted to say no. How often I ignored my own coping mechanisms to accommodate the desires of others. I thought I was being helpful, but the truth? I was betraying myself every single day.

There’s a saying: you can’t pour from an empty cup. Let me tell you, I tried.

For a long time, I let people sleep on my couch, borrow money I didn’t have, and dump their emotional baggage all over my living room floor. I turned myself into a shelter, a therapist, a free Uber, and an emotional punching bag—depending on the person and the day.

And for what?

I wasn’t helping anyone in a healthy way. I was just reinforcing their dependence and avoiding my own growth. What I needed was space. Time. Rest. Healing. I needed to add myself to my own damn to-do list.

Maybe you grew up trying to appease an angry parent. Maybe you learned to become hyper-aware of interpersonal reactions just to avoid conflict. Maybe, like me, you came from an abusive relationship, or several.

Whatever the source, the result is the same: we begin sacrificing ourselves on the altar of being liked. We start ignoring our personal values, tolerating things that go against our core beliefs, and molding ourselves into whatever version of “nice” or “easy” other people prefer.

Helping people felt good—until it didn’t.

When you’re used to feeling powerless, being the hero gives you a temporary high. I used to say yes to everyone because I wanted to feel needed. I was chasing that same old fix—control. Relief. Purpose. And it became one more addiction I had to recover from.

In some twisted way, pleasing others gave me a buzz. Nothing like the buzz I used to get from using. But just like drugs, it came with negative thoughts, emotional hangovers, and real-world consequences.

People started calling my job, threatening my safety, abusing my kindness. I kept trying to justify it—“They’re just going through something,” “They don’t have anyone else,” “It’s only temporary.”

Let me be clear: being a servant of Christ doesn’t mean becoming someone’s doormat. And being a life coach, helper, or healer doesn’t mean abandoning your own healing.

You’re allowed to choose you.
You’re allowed to disappoint people.
You’re allowed to honor your current capacity.

And not only is that okay—it’s the best way to protect your peace, preserve your energy, and finally meet your deepest desires for freedom and growth.

Let me tell you something I wish someone told me years ago: you can’t save anyone else until you’ve saved yourself.

I had to learn how to set boundaries like my life depended on it—because it actually did.

Boundaries don’t make you mean. They make you healthy. Saying no isn’t a bad thing. It’s the most authentic thing you can do. Your true self deserves that respect.

It started with baby steps:

• “I can’t take on anything extra right now.”

• “That’s not something I can help with.”

• “I’m focusing on my personal growth and need to step back.”

• “I’m not available to talk tonight. I need rest.”

And guess what? Some people walked away.

But the ones who stayed? They were the ones who loved me for who I really was—not what I could do for them.

Here’s what helped me break free from the people-pleaser cycle:

1. Identify the Pattern – Look at your calendar. Your inbox. Your texts. Who are you always saying yes to, and why?

2. Reflect on the Why – Is it fear? Guilt? Habit? A need to control how others see you?

3. Get Clear on Your Core Values – Write them down. Use them as a compass.

4. Start Practicing Difficult Conversations – They get easier with time.

5. Try Mindfulness Activities – When you get in the habit of checking in with yourself, you’ll notice when you’re crossing your own lines.

6. Seek Support – A therapist, a support group, or even a solid, trusted friend can hold you accountable.

7. Cut Off What Doesn’t Serve You – That means people, too, even if they’ve been around a long time.

One day, I asked my six-year-old, “When do you see mommy do something for herself?” She thought about it and replied, “does a shower count?”

That moment gutted me.

Here I was preaching self-care, giving away free workbooks, and coaching others on how to heal, and the only thing I did for myself was take a shower.

That wasn’t a wake-up call. That was a fire alarm.

I had to start showing up for me. And not just when it was convenient or when everyone else was taken care of. I had to put myself at the top of the list—not last, not later—now.

I won’t lie to you. This is something I still struggle with pretty much daily. It’s not easy. For me, it’s so hard. I’m working on it, though. That’s all it takes. A commitment to make progress. You can do that. I know you can.

Listen, being a nice guy or a good friend isn’t about self-sacrifice at the expense of your sanity. It’s about showing up in a way that’s sustainable, that reflects your authentic self, and that allows you to live life on your own terms.

We get to a point when enough is enough. Being a people pleaser was not something I did when using. WHen actively using I tended more towards being a complete bitch. I didn’t want to get back there either. I know now it was a defense mechanism. It was how I protected myself. I may not have a friend in the world, but I don’t have to watch my back either.

If you have to watch your back with your friends, they are not your friends. Please don’t forget that. The same people I called friends are making fun of me, my blog, and my mission. Fuck em. I see them for what they are now. Jealous.

Please don’t waste the time I wasted figuring it out.

If you take one thing from this post, let it be this:

You are allowed to have limits. You are allowed to have needs. And you are allowed to put yourself first.

So, what I don’t have “friends” anymore, but I do have peace. I have clarity. I have my dignity back. And I’m no longer the unpaid emotional laborer for people who wouldn’t throw me a life vest if I were drowning. I see it so clearly now.

This isn’t easy, and it’s not supposed to be.

But it is worth it. I promise you. I am happier and lighter than I have ever been, and you will be too.