The Anxious Writer: a Secret People Pleaser

How a TikTok Astrologer Changed My World

Up until recently, if you would have asked if I was a people pleaser, I’d say absolutely not. I’m the youngest sibling, I don’t like to be uncomfortable, I don’t roll with the punches, and my sister’s favorite adjective for me is persnickety. I consider my needs readily in every situation.

Fast forward to three months ago while in the throes of a terrible anxiety episode, and the medication my doctor tried ratcheted me up so tight I couldn’t leave the protection of my weighted blanket. I tried self-help books, meditation, supplements, and even my first attempt at gummies. Do you know how anxious you have to be for a gummy to worsen your panic attack?

Photo by Sydney Sims on Unsplash

Simultaneously, my writing life was about to implode as I gathered my 400th agent rejection in the span of six years. I had been querying what is objectively my best work, and, per usual, 8 full requests led to 8 full rejections, making every aspect of my life feel out of control, helpless, and a little bit terrifying.

After a full crying breakdown in front of my monthly writer’s coffee group, I found myself hopelessly scrolling social media. Into my feed walks this young Brit holding tarot cards. He’s edgy, wears all black and a silver chain, and refers to the viewer as “babes.” Yes, I hung on his every word. In this reading, he said something that literally made me pause, gasp, and begin crying. He said some version of this:

You’re currently working under the need for validation. This is because someone in your upbringing didn’t provide this and you’re holding onto the need to impress an authority who can provide the approval you so badly needed long ago. You won’t know happiness until you can let that go, babes.

Okay, could this be the algorithm? Sure. But it’s a way better story to have a breakthrough moment at the hands of an internet psychic.

He was right. I was looking for something I will never find, at least not in the way I thought. I’ve never held my tongue. I’ve often stated my opinions openly and loudly. But I’ve never let go of the fear of rejection that comes with being honest in the face of ridicule. Debilitating and embarrassing panic attacks starting in middle school will do that to a girl. Much of my mental health struggles formed from an unstable upbringing (who can relate?). When fear rules your life, how can you ever be free? Of all those terrible self-help books, I found a little gem that resonated with me: “You can’t be authentically yourself without someone out there hating you.”

I can’t be honest and raw until I let go of their reactions to my honesty. *Waves hand around at proverbial “they.” You see, I was writing toward validation. My goals were to get the agent or publisher to tell me I’m good enough. I’ve waited for other people to make me feel worthy. The complete shit part of that is my utter lack of control over other people’s opinions or reactions.

Photo by Michelle on Unsplash

Anyone who writes SMART goals (healthcare worker here) knows that our goals need be attainable and in our control. My goals were about other people. A perfect recipe for anxiety and devastation.

I stand behind my writing. I don’t think of agents or publishers while in the thick of drafting or editing. I write for every woman who has been erased by history. I want to do right by their stories. But deep down, through it all, I was holding on for gatekeeper approval like some golden ticket to the land of happiness, and that shot me into a three-day panic attack that proved once again I wasn’t enough.

I was a lonely kid. Most writers I know have felt that loneliness in their bones. It’s often why we turn inward and rely on ourselves to make sense of the world. Lonely, for me, led to detachment which led to insecurity, and those two beasts walked me straight into the woods of a mental health crisis, the likes of which would return to me over and over for decades.

It didn’t happen overnight, but I started to let go of people who don’t know me, who are running a business and who owe me nothing. I began posting on social media in a way I’ve never done before. Unrelenting commitment to my message, come what may. When you write about badass women in history whose stories rattle the narrative we’ve all been taught about singular brilliant men changing the world, the misogynists come out in full force. If I’m committed to telling women’s stories, this is what that road looks like. And little old anxious me needed to saddle up.

Look, I’m not there. I started small. But I’ve found that speaking unapologetically about the things I care about attracts more people who care about the same things. Women’s history unfiltered. This is me. I stopped thinking of the gatekeepers and decided to build my own damn gate and walk right through it as I please. And somewhere, I noticed my anxiety easing. Maybe fear of my own voice was holding me by the throat the entire time.

Go out there, writers. Be bold and raw and do it for the real reason you started. There are so many ways to get our stories into the world. Even if your voice shakes and you desperately want a weighted blanket, speak louder. Maybe you’ll find that people pleaser in you too, and you can tell her to shush. You’ve got words to write and stories to build.

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