Fuck It! Why Not? 44 Years of Trying to Fit In, People Pleasing and Finally Choosing Me

The impact of people pleasing on my health, my confidence and the way I choose to live my life.

I've been doing a lot of thinking recently. About life, my health, the choices I've made, the things I've achieved and, perhaps more importantly, the years I've spent trying to be someone I wasn't.

At 44, I am beginning to realise just how much of my life I've spent people pleasing. Trying to fit in. Trying to meet expectations. Trying not to disappoint people. Trying to do what I thought I should be doing, rather than necessarily what I wanted to do.

Looking back, I genuinely wonder how much of an impact that has had on my health over the years.

The anxiety, unsettled nervous system, gastrointestinal problems. The periods of feeling overwhelmed and the knocks to my confidence and self-esteem.

I'm not suggesting people pleasing is responsible for every health issue I've experienced, but I do believe that years of internalising stress, worrying about other people's opinions and constantly questioning myself have taken their toll. The irony?

I work in health and wellbeing. I spend my professional life encouraging others to recognise their needs, manage stress, establish boundaries and prioritise themselves. Yet I've spent a considerable amount of my own life doing the exact opposite.

That feeling of never quite belonging

It's difficult to explain, but for as long as I can remember, I've had this niggling feeling that I didn't quite belong. Not necessarily that I wasn't wanted, but that I didn't really fit.

As though everyone else had been given a handbook on how life was supposed to look, and somehow I'd missed that particular meeting! For years, I tried to compensate. Be agreeable, keep everyone happy. Don't rock the boat. Don't disappoint anyone. Try to fit the mould.

Marriage. Mortgage. Corporate career. The conventional life. All things that society can make us feel we should aspire to.

Yet, the older I've become, the more I've realised that much of that simply isn't me.

A period of clinical hypnotherapy last year really brought some of these thoughts and behaviours to the surface. It encouraged me to reflect on things I'd perhaps avoided acknowledging for years or maybe even realise.

Why was I so concerned about what other people thought?

Why did I feel the need to justify my decisions?

Why was I so uncomfortable with the possibility of disappointing someone, even when the alternative meant disappointing myself?

Why did I so often feel the need to explain a life that, actually, I quite liked?

I'm not conventional and perhaps that's the point.

Anyone who knows me will probably agree that I am far from conventional.

I love freedom. The ocean. Nature. Travel. Learning. New experiences. Being creative and having the flexibility to decide what I want to do with my time.

I live in a little timber cabin in rural North Devon, a somewhat, to a point off-grid lifestyle, and genuinely enjoy it.

I'm not someone who particularly likes being tied down, except in the relationship sense, of course!

The thought of returning to a traditional 9–5 corporate job fills me with dread. Not because there's anything wrong with that lifestyle, but because I know it doesn't suit me.

Even my parenting and co-parenting arrangements aren't conventional. I've learnt that unconventional arrangements often attract opinions and judgements, sometimes from the people closest to you including family.

As a result, there are aspects of my life that I rarely discuss in detail. Not because I'm ashamed of them, but because sometimes it's simply easier not to invite the commentary.

But here's what I'm starting to question.

Why should I feel the need to explain or defend a life that works for me and the people directly involved in it?

The shy girl with a 'fuck it' attitude!

A while back, I had a conversation with an old mate from my football days.

He was sitting at an airport waiting for a flight to Australia, and we got chatting about life, travel, opportunities and the things I've done over the years.

He said something that has really stayed with me.

"Loren, you've always been an incredibly shy girl, right from a young age. Yet you've always come across as such a focused individual with this 'fuck it' attitude.

"If you want to do something, you try it. Why not? It's almost as though you think, why shouldn't I?

"Look at everything you've tried and done, often on your own."

And he was right.

Despite being incredibly shy, I've travelled independently, started businesses, pursued different careers, taken opportunities that frightened me and moved 200 miles away to start a different chapter of my life.

At 18, I was interviewing professional footballers as a sports journalist.

I've taken chances, changed direction, challenged myself and done things that perhaps didn't make sense to everyone else.

And then he said something that really pulled at my heartstrings.

"Think about what your boys will see their mum has achieved over the years. Think about the example you're setting them."

That one really got me.

Because ultimately, what do I want my boys to learn from me?

That they should follow everyone else's expectations?

That they shouldn't take chances because someone might disapprove?

That they should put their dreams aside to keep other people comfortable?

Absolutely not.

I want them to know that life is there to be lived.

That it's OK to be different.

That they can be shy and still be brave.

That they can try something, fail, learn, change direction and try again.

That they definitely don't need everyone else's approval to pursue something that matters to them.

Life really is too short

I've lost people close to me over the years, some far too young. These experiences and losses change your perspective.

They make you realise just how fragile life can be and how quickly the opportunities we assume will always be there can disappear.

I've always had a strong drive to achieve things, to explore, to learn and to experience as much of life as I can.

Not necessarily in the conventional sense of success, either.

For me, success isn't just about money, possessions or job titles.

It's about freedom, experiences, relationships, happiness, fulfilment and being able to look back knowing I've actually lived.

When my time eventually comes, hopefully many, many years from now, I don't want to be lying there thinking:

I should have gone there.

I wish I'd tried that.

Why didn't I take that opportunity?

Why did I spend so much time worrying about what everyone else thought?

Of course, there will always be regrets. Nobody gets to do everything.

But I don't want fear of judgement or the need to please others to be the reason I didn't try.

Australia, New Zealand and a little reminder of why I do things differently

Our summer adventure to Australia and New Zealand was a perfect example.

I wanted to take my boys on a proper adventure while they were still young enough to want to travel with their mum!

Quality time together. New countries. Different cultures. Road trips. The ocean. Experiences and memories.

Yes, there were questions.

"What, Craig's not going?"

"You're taking them on your own?"

"You're doing all that travelling with just the boys?"

Yes. Yes, I was.

Do you know what?

It was brilliant. Not perfect.

There were stressful moments, disagreements, tiredness and the usual challenges that come with travelling with two boys.

But there were also so many wonderful moments.

Conversations. Laughter. Adventures. Experiences we will remember for years. Plus so much precious time together that I wouldn't trade for anything.

It worked for us.

It didn't need to make sense to anyone else.

That, to me, is exactly what my mate meant by having a 'fuck it, why not?' attitude.

The health cost of constantly trying to please

Bringing this back to where I started, my health.

As someone who works in nutrition, women's health and wellbeing, I understand how closely our physical and emotional health can be connected.

Stress doesn't just exist in our thoughts. It can influence our sleep, digestion, appetite, energy, mood and how we feel physically.

When you spend years worrying about other people's reactions, avoiding conflict, suppressing your own needs or feeling that you have to prove yourself, it can become exhausting.

I've experienced anxiety, digestive issues, periods of overwhelm and times when my confidence has taken a real knock.

I've started to recognise how often I've pushed my own needs aside.

Said yes when I wanted to say no.

Felt guilty for prioritising myself.

Questioned decisions I was actually happy with because somebody else had an opinion.

Sometimes allowed other people's expectations to influence how I felt about myself.

It's something I am increasingly determined to change.

Not because I suddenly don't care about other people.

I do. Very much.

But there's a difference between caring about people and feeling responsible for keeping everybody happy.

Perhaps the biggest lesson I'm learning at 44 is that I can be a kind, caring and considerate person without sacrificing myself in the process.

So, what happens now?

Well, I'm certainly not about to become selfish, inconsiderate or completely reckless!

I still have responsibilities. I have my boys, Craig, work, family and all the practicalities of everyday life.

Their happiness and wellbeing matter enormously to me.

But mine matters too.

I want to continue building a life that reflects who I actually am.

One with adventure, freedom, meaningful work, creativity, the ocean, people I love and experiences that make me feel alive.

I want to make decisions because they're right for me and the people directly affected, rather than because they meet somebody else's expectations.

I want to stop feeling the need to explain myself quite so much.

I want to be more comfortable saying no.

I want to recognise that somebody disagreeing with my choices doesn't automatically mean those choices are wrong.

Most importantly, I want to see whether letting go of some of those long-standing people-pleasing habits has a positive impact on my physical and emotional wellbeing

.

I don't expect everything to change overnight.

After 44 years, habits and thought patterns don't simply disappear because you've decided you've had enough of them.

But awareness is a starting point.

Perhaps, for the first time in a long time, I'm beginning to feel more comfortable with the person I actually am rather than the person I thought I was supposed to be.

So here's to less conformity, fewer unnecessary explanations, healthier boundaries, more adventures and a little less worrying about what everyone else thinks.

Because life is short.

Because I want my boys to know they can live life on their own terms.

And because I want to look after my health, happiness and wellbeing as much as I encourage everyone else to look after theirs.

If something matters to me, feels right and doesn't compromise the wellbeing of those I love?

Well...

Fuck it. Why not? 🌊

Loren x

Eat Clean, Health & Dream