People Pleasers Can’t Date Jealous People

I used to lie a lot. Almost constantly. 

White lies. Black lies. Lies of all sizes. 

I lied about what music I liked. I lied about where I went at night. I lied about my past. 

I thought I was a terrible person because of all this lying. But, reader, I’m not a compulsive liar. I’m a much more sinister thing: a people pleaser.

People pleasing has a spectrum of behaviors. Different behaviors can be activated/exacerbated by manipulative people—especially jealous people.

I met the worst version of myself when I dated a jealous guy named Michael.

This Fucking Guy

Michael was young and rich and handsome. He was bankrolling an apartment for us in a chic neighborhood of downtown Atlanta. It had exposed brick walls and tall ceilings and a hatch to the rooftop terrace. I’d never lived anywhere but my childhood bedroom or a college dorm. He took me to Puerto Rico to stay in a luxurious villa and eat ceviche at sunset. 

One time we were running errands, and I paused to admire a gorgeous coat in a store window. The next week I came home to find it laid out on the bed. I was 22. This shit was blowing my mind.

But that was the good stuff. He was also jealous, manipulative, and controlling. If I came home late from my office job he would question me. If I wanted to spend time with my parents or a college roommate without him, he would punish me by brooding and pouting. I couldn’t take calls in private. I couldn’t wear “revealing outfits” to the gym. 

“Do you know that guy?” he would ask. 

“What guy?”

“You said hello to him.”

“I was just being friendly,” I would say.

“Why would you greet some random guy?”

“Why are you mad? He’s nobody.”

“Why are you flirting with random guys at the park?”

“I’m not flirting, I’m being friendly!”

“Do you see me talking to women like that?”

“I’m just saying hello to neighbors!”

“So you do know him! He’s a neighbor?”

Stupid little tiffs like this taught me two things: First, Michael couldn’t handle the truth.

Instead of facing him—I lied. His reactions to mundane truths were so over the top that I retaliated by withholding information I knew would set him off. This started small, and grew over time. He demanded details about my exes. I reassured him that they were all boring and short and I had cut off all communication (I hadn’t). He accused me of having feelings for male friends, so I promised never to text them again (I texted them anyway). He didn’t like when I went dancing or socializing with my girlfriends, so I told him I preferred dates with only him (and snuck out whenever he had other plans).

This defiance was a cope, obviously. Lying allowed me to take some of my power back. But this came at a big cost. 

Secondly, it taught me to shrink.

I lived my life smiling and nodding, calming the water, coddling and soothing. I stopped arguing, pushing back. I conformed completely to his idea of me. By doing so, I hardly recognized myself. Who was this husk of a woman who told him everything he wanted to hear? Who lied all the time? By avoiding conflict, the muscle for defending myself was atrophying. My sense of self was eroding. 

What’s worse, Michael knew. The guy was a trust fund dickhead, but he wasn’t deaf to intuition. He could tell I was lying, even though I’d become very good at it. The more I lied to reassure him, the more he sensed it and grew distrustful and jealous. Thus the vicious cycle tightened. As he lost trust in me, he became more anxious, interrogating, controlling of my time. In response, I lied and deceived and erased myself more.

The Spectrum

People pleasing, on its face, is not a barbaric behavior. Feeling an instinct to caretake (female coded) or be someone’s “rock” (male coded) is a way to show love. But at its core, it involves suppressing our own needs in order to prioritize someone else’s.

When pushed too far, a people pleaser can’t just please less in order to cope. We find creative workarounds to protect ourselves while still upholding expectations.

source: me, I made this up

Once people know us as affable, accommodating, peacemaking, selfless, cooperative at all times, then it becomes harder and harder to challenge that idea of us. Lying to ourselves and others becomes easier than simply saying no. Thus people pleasers begin the slide down the spectrum from easy-going toward silencing our own needs, lying about what we really want, all the way to disguising who we really are. 

When a people pleaser is in a relationship with a jealous person, it creates a circularity. A Chinese finger trap. The more jealous one person becomes, the more desperately the people pleaser tries to reassure them, whether or not it’s the truth.

When Michael was feeling insecure or threatened, my reflex was to tone down my confidence, shrink to his level. I didn’t wear low-cut necklines. I stooped my posture. I avoided eye contact with men. Ugh, I still feel fucking sick about it. The worse he treated me, the more I tried to change myself to reassure him. I believed that I could make him love me better if I erased more of my own needs. A trap indeed.

I’ve grown up a lot since that relationship. But people pleasing is hard to unlearn. 

The Cure?

I had to take ownership of my behavior. Lying is a shitty thing to do—even to a shitty boyfriend. I have worked a lot in therapy to not let the needs of others take priority over my own. I’m no longer a liar. But I also learned, quite simply, not to date jealous people. 

There are so many articles coaching how to “cure” people pleasing behavior. They’ll teach you how to say no, set boundaries, stick up for yourself. These are essential skills to protect you from jealous people—and all people for that matter.

But, I don’t believe you need a “cure”.

People pleasing can create dangerous patterns—yes—but, consider the positive attributes. My motivation to please others gives me great listening skills, deep empathy, generosity, and devotion. 

Through this lens, people pleasing can be a superpower. We can read people’s emotions, facial expressions, body language. Our endless well of empathy allows us to anticipate people’s thoughts, decode subtexts, and psychoanalyze motivations. People pleasers are often the most emotionally intelligent and socially attuned people in the room. 

But there is inherent danger in our skill to charm and appease. On one end of the spectrum, we’re easy-going and fun. People love us! We have strong friendships. We throw amazing house parties. On the other end, we’re coercive. We bend the truth to get what we want without negative consequences. We silence our needs. We over accommodate. We lie about who we really are.

That’s what dating jealous people taught me most of all: my power to please is a weapon that can destroy everything I love, including me. In the beginning I really did love Michael, but in the end I lost us both.

Personally, I’m prioritizing relationships that reciprocate my generosity and understanding. And I’m practicing advocating for my needs and voicing strong opinions, even if that means I’m disliked. It’s fucking difficult. But each time I stand up for myself, each time I tell a hard truth, I’m rebuilding that muscle of self-worth that atrophied during my relationship with Michael. Working on this has paid huge dividends. Stronger friendships, more trusting partnerships, higher salaries, more self confidence. It’s amazing. 

So, if you’re working on pleasing people less, embrace your powers for good. Use the spectrum to recognize when manipulative people are using your powers against you. And hold yourself to these rules: No coddling, no shrinking—and no trust fund dickheads.