I like to please people. That's like...my thing. I loathe unpleasant situations. I hate confrontations. And I absolutely never want to be the reason that someone is uncomfortable. It's a personality flaw, for sure, though I'm almost 100 percent positive that the only person who minds is me.
When my husband asks what movie I want to see, my response is always, "I don't care, what do you want to watch?" When in reality, what I want to say is, "I want to see Eat, Pray, Love, but when you get bored halfway through and start whining about what a girly movie is, my guilt over having ruined your Saturday night will eat away at me to the point where I won't even enjoy the movie." So, Transformers it is!
When my in-laws ask me what I want to eat, I almost always say, "Oh, whatever you feel like eating is fine with me," instead of, "Well, I'm really in the mood for a good Chimichanga, but if we end up at a restaurant with a bad batch of guacamole and everyone spends the rest of the weekend with food poisoning, I will pretty much want to die."So, leftovers it is...again.
This people-pleasing has not served me well.
When I was 11, I had my first round of braces taken off my teeth. I am also unfortunate to have no enamel on my two front teeth (my parents blame too many antibiotics when I was a kid). So when they popped the braces glue off, they also pulled off the fake-y enamel stuff they paint on my teeth so that the roots aren't exposed. But the tech didn't know about this sad lack of enamel, and she thought the brown color on my teeth was because I hadn't kept up with my brushing and flossing routine instead of just the fact that it was the inside of my teeth. So she ground on it with her little polisher thing for what felt like HOURS trying to get the "stain" off. And I sat there, not saying anything because...I didn't want to make her feel bad that she was causing me inordinate amounts of pain.
In retrospect, that was insane.
Another case in point: during college, I dated a guy for several months because he'd written me a poem and bought me an expensive necklace. I was really not interested in him, but he was VERY nice to me. So I dated him because...I didn't want to hurt his feelings or seem ungrateful.
In retrospect, that was also insane.
So why am I telling you about this now?
This week, I had my house cleaned by a house cleaner (a very thoughtful and awesome birthday present from my mom). When I got home, I found out that house cleaners had broken the plate that goes on the little spinny-around thing in the microwave. (Those things are hella expensive to replace! I had no idea...) And they also broke the cup we keep in the bathroom. But you know what I did? I tipped them. I actually tipped them EXTRA because...I felt so bad that they felt bad about breaking my stuff.
Once again, insane.
The moral of this story? Being a people-pleaser makes me insane. Though, it still beats hurting people's feelings.