The stones that weigh us down, that keep us from mature growth. What are they, and how can we roll them away? So far in this series, we’ve looked at the stones of perfectionism and shame. This month, we’re exploring approval-seeking.
As we look at approval-seeking, remember that we’ve already figured out that perfectionism and shame are counterproductive. Also, we’ve learned that mistakes and failures are simply opportunities to turn back to the Love that never lets us go.
Carrying those insights forward, let us remember:
The things we find inside ourselves when we examine approval-seeking are not occasions for shame and self-flagellation.
They are simply more opportunities to turn back to Love.
In that way, whatever we find inside of ourselves, no matter how negative it may seem, is a gift.
One more reason to turn back to Love.
Years ago, I read somewhere that the purpose of approval-seeking is CONTROL.
“But wait,” I thought, dismayed and alarmed. “OTHER people might be controlling, but not me! I’m a nice people-pleaser! I’m just here trying to make everybody else happy and demonstrate the immensity of my servant’s heart!”
The truth is, though, if I can get someone else to approve of me, if they like me, if they admire me, I may be able to:
- control their feelings about me, AND perhaps even
- control their behavior toward me.
If I’m a person who desperately needs to be loved, I may find myself in a “weak people-pleaser” pattern. If I’m a person who desperately needs to be admired, perhaps the “strong pedestal dweller” life will suit me better.
Either way, when I’m approval-seeking, I’m trying to control the response of others.
Somebody else holds the key to my emotional, spiritual, personal well-being, and I’m going to seek their approval until they give me what I need, whether it’s love and affection or admiration and elevation.
Approval-seeking may be a skill set that served us well in the past. We may have learned to control others this way in our family of origin, as a survival skill.
In a dysfunctional family, our peace, our calm, our very physical safety might depend upon our ability to read social cues and behave in ways that will produce beneficial outcomes for us:
- If you’ll just be funny enough, you can keep dad from drinking.
- If you’ll just be sweet enough, you can keep mom from crying.
- If you’ll just be competent enough, at least you’ll be necessary to others.
- If you’ll just be incompetent enough, your parent can feel strong and in control, and never threatened by you.
While approval-seeking may have served us well in the past, there are hidden costs in the long term.
Here are some signs that approval-seeking isn’t working out the way we’d hoped:
- We get angry that other people aren’t doing enough.
- We’re so busy doing what everybody else wants that we don’t take responsibility for ourselves.
- Our needs go unmet, and we hope that others will try to please us like we’re trying to please them.
- Black hole syndrome: no matter how much approval people give us, it’s never enough.
- Imposter syndrome: we’re never who we appear to be.
- Defense mechanisms are required to cope with the difference between our insides and our outsides: projection, displacement, denial, rationalization.
- We’ve tried so hard to please others that we don’t really know what we want or need any more.
- We’ve lost our SELVES along the way.
- We feel empty, afraid, alone, no matter how happy we try to make others feel.
- We may find ourselves just “done.” At the end of our rope, at the end of our plan, at the end of ourselves.
Coming to the end of everything we know is a scary thing, but hear this good news:
“Until we are led to the limits of our current game plan, and find it to be insufficient, we will not search out or find the real source, the deep well, or the constantly flowing stream.” Richard Rohr
The deep mind-shift here is about SUPPLY.
Our mistake is looking into the human system for supply. When we are limited to the human system for supply, we’ll always have a scarcity. I can’t do enough for you, and you can’t do enough for me. We will drive each other crazy trying, and get real mad at each other in the process.
But when we lay ourselves down in the constantly flowing stream, a whole different thing begins to happen.
We receive, we are renewed, we live and work and play in the Source.
We don’t have to worry about who has what, because the constantly flowing stream of belovedness encompasses us all.
No need to hoard it for ourselves or make rules that lock others out.
There is more than enough for us all.
We are all perfectly loved, safe, and chosen.
Everyone belongs: approval guaranteed.
Abandoning approval-seeking is one of the hardest tasks we’ll undertake as adults, I believe. We know the truth that God is enough, and that he should be our source and supply. But the tug of the others around us is great. We’re talking about our family, our friends, our supporters, our colleagues. All these relationships built on…well, let’s just say…less than the real truth about who we really are.
What will they think, say, or do when we stop trying to please them all the time? Will we lose relationships? Lose our job or career?
One of my favorite passages from The Chronicles of Narnia is the chapter called What Lucy Saw, in Prince Caspian.
In this particular chapter, the children are traveling through rough, unfamiliar country when Lucy sees Aslan and wants to follow him. The problem is, nobody else sees Aslan. And Lucy–the youngest, nicest kid in the family, the born people-pleaser—ends up following her siblings to keep them happy.
Once the decision is made, CS Lewis writes: “And Lucy came last of the party, crying bitterly.”
And it makes me wonder.
With all our approval-seeking, people-pleasing and pedestal-dwelling:
what are we missing out on when we try to drum up what we need from each other,
rather than diving into the deep well, the true Source, the ever-flowing stream?
What are we frantically following, when we could be pursuing Love?
What bitter tears do we weep, trailing along behind people who can never give us what we truly need?
Tired of Trying to Measure Up, Jeff VanVonderen
The Dance of Anger, Harriet Lerner
Boundaries, Cloud and Townsend
Breathing Underwater, Richard Rohr