People-Pleasing Reaching New Heights. Literally.
*Listen to my people-pleasing episode as a guest on Level Up Life After 40 here.
The Flight
I was a new mom flying home for the first time with my six-month-old, William—now almost 18—to introduce him to my family. I hadn't traveled alone with him yet, and an international flight felt terrifying enough that I booked two seats: one for me, one for his carseat to guarantee me a few breaks over a 24-hour trip.
On the first leg to Europe, I was elated. Any guilt I'd felt about spending money on an extra seat for a baby vanished the second I felt how much easier it made that 11-hour flight. He was a great traveler and I'd already made the return on my investment in the first few hours.
Boarding our second and last flight, an older woman settled into the aisle seat of the first row. The carseat and a diaper bag took the middle. I had the window, baby in my lap.
We made small talk. She was nosier than I liked, but she was close to my mother's age and the good-girl in me couldn't bring herself to shut the conversation down. I'd been on the road for almost 16 hours by then. Little sleep and no patience left. I stayed polite anyway.
Shortly into reaching 30,000 feet, she began to wave to someone in the back who turned out to be the husband she hadn't booked adjacent seats with. Minutes later, she left only to come back with him.
The Brain Overriding the Body
As they hovered over me, the husband literally standing in what little room I had to stretch my legs and absurdly cooing at a fussing baby who clearly was not in the mood—nor was his mother—I started to remove the diaper bag from the carseat to replace it with the miserable tiny human, but the couple had a different plan.
First, they offered to hold him, which I declined. Then, the woman matter-of-factly stated: "Oh, you're so flustered. Just hand me the baby and let my husband take the middle. It's a win-win! He and I can sit together and we can help you calm him down. You don't need that carseat."
I froze. My throat went dry. My heart slammed. Heat crawled up my neck. I wanted to scream at both of them, but nothing came out. I couldn't fight the part of me that associated politeness and thoughtfulness with biting the bullet in service of others.
I watched her husband unbuckle the car seat. Watched the flight attendant stow it away. Watched him sit down in the seat I had paid for, specifically for me and my child, without a flicker of apology. I allowed it all.
Picture it: exhausted, a fussy baby in my arms, my things now on the floor of the plane, and I could not make myself say no. My nervous system had already decided that saying no would upset them, and upsetting them registered as danger. I knew I had every right to protest, call the attendant back, even make a scene. My brain overrode all of it anyway, and instructed me to stay quiet, keep the peace, and stay safe.
These moments for me were always followed by immeasurable anger towards myself; I told myself I was weak, I replayed every scene in my head and how I could've handled it instead, and sometimes shed tears mourning my inability to set proper boundaries with others.
Eighteen years later, I still relive that scene like it happened yesterday. The only thing that's changed is how I see her—the woman I was back then. I look at her now with grace, not judgment, nor anger.
My kindness wasn't always that. Some of it was passive niceness, self-erasure, even paralysis in action at times, all wrapped up in a shiny excuse of generosity and selflessness.
What the Research Says
A 2023 study in the Journal of Neuroscience found that your sense of self isn't abstract. It's represented in a specific brain region, the medial prefrontal cortex, and it responds to how important something is to your identity, not just whether it's true about you.
Your brain has an actual, physical way of tracking what matters to you specifically—not what matters to the woman next to you.
That's why boundaries fail before they're ever spoken. You cannot defend a value you've never located.
Where to Start Instead
Boundaries are never the starting point but rather then end-result. Knowing what you stand for, what truly matters in your life, and what values keep your nervous system calm is the foundation that boundaries are built upon.
If you've spent years allowing others to make decisions that affected you without your input, choices that didn't take you into consideration, and assumptions that you'd go with whatever flow they designed, I invite you to pause right here, right now and answer this:
What do YOU want?
If you want to go deeper with this question, a Coffee Chat appointment or a DM on Instagram or LinkedIn is always a great first step to get in touch.
You're not alone. Living without boundaries in place is an emotional and physical drain you can do without.
