From Pain to Power: Letting Go of Approval to Love Myself

“If you love yourself, it doesn’t matter if other people like you because you don’t need their approval to feel good about yourself.” ~Lori Deschene

For most of my life, I worried about what others thought. Every move I made felt like a performance for someone else. I’d built my life on their approval.

Then came the losses. Three family members were gone in a matter of years. Each time, the grief hit like a fist to the gut.

My mother was my pillar of strength; my father, who might not have always been there for me but was still my father, went next, and then my younger brother—a cruel fate.

Their absence left a void that seemed impossible to fill.

I felt hollow, like someone had punched all the air out of me. I was left winded and empty. Grief, relentless and heavy, kept knocking me down.

I tried to keep up appearances, but inside, I was stuck. Couldn’t move. I didn’t know how.

I remember one day after my younger brother died, I sat alone in the garden. The sun was out, but I felt nothing.

It was close to Easter, and I had a list of commitments. Things I’d agreed to, people I had to see. Each one felt like a chain around my neck.

I stared at my phone, anxious and tired. ‘’Where are you?” the message read. My hands were shaking. That’s when I put it down.

It was a moment of liberation. I realized I didn’t want to do this anymore. I didn’t want to worry about what everyone else wanted.

It was time to let go. And in that release, I found a new sense of freedom and hope.

I picked up my phone again and texted, “Sorry, I will not make it today.” And I hit send.

One message turned into two, then three. “I’m sorry, I won’t be coming.” The words felt strange, as if I were speaking them for the first time.

One small act, one message, was enough to break the chains. For the first time in years, I felt like I could breathe. The tightness in my chest eased.

It was a turning point in my journey to self-acceptance.

I didn’t know it then, but that was the beginning of reclaiming my life. Just a few words and the weight started to lift.

Grief Changes Everything

Grief stripped away everything I thought mattered. The “should” and “have to” layers fell away like dead skin. I was left with nothing but raw, aching truth.

I saw my life clearly for the first time. It was built on everyone else’s expectations. There was no space left for me.

That was the most challenging part to accept. I had spent so long trying to be what everyone else wanted. And now I didn’t know who I was.

But the losses kept coming, pushing me deeper into emptiness. Each time, it took something from me. And each time, I was forced to look harder at myself.

I began to see a pattern. I was living for others, not for myself. It was a painful truth, but grief can uncover what’s hidden.

The Realization

One day, I stood in front of the mirror. The reflection, looking back, was a stranger. My face, my clothes, how I stood—it was all for someone else.

That was the moment when I decided I needed to change. I didn’t want to live like this. I needed to stop.

I didn’t need the approval of others. I didn’t need to be perfect for anyone but myself. It was time to break free.

It wasn’t easy. The habit of pleasing others ran deep. But I started with small steps.

Steps Toward Freedom

First, I listened to my thoughts. When I found myself worrying about someone’s opinion, I stopped. “Is this helping me?” I’d ask.

The answer was almost always no! So I let the thought go. It was redemptive.

Slowly, the worrying and sleepless nights of being a people-pleaser lessened.

Next, I set boundaries. The most challenging boundary was with me. I had to stop pushing past my limits, physically, emotionally, or mentally.

I began saying no. I stopped feeling guilty for choosing myself. Setting boundaries was empowering and made me feel more in control of my life.

It was a declaration of my needs and desires, a step toward asserting my worth.

I distanced myself from people who drained me and people who made me question myself. It was a gradual process.

I started by reducing the time I spent with them, and eventually, I found the courage to communicate my need for space.

I started creating space, which allowed me to breathe and focus on my well-being.

Slowly, I started doing what felt good: walking in the rain instead of counting steps; I just walked for pleasure.

I stopped trying to please everyone; instead, I pleased myself.

This focus on my desires and needs was an essential aspect of my journey to self-acceptance and self-love.

I stopped playing host because others required it. The first Christmas after my younger brother passed away, I took a vacation with just my children, starting a tradition that centered on what worked for me. Now I only host when it feels right on my terms.

I also stopped being the one to reach out constantly to family or friends. I realized I didn’t have to check in or hold relationships together single-handedly. Trusting that real friendships wouldn’t crumble without my constant effort was freeing.

Each small action was a step closer to who I was. Each “no” brought me back to myself. It wasn’t a sudden transformation but a slow, steady shift.

Healing Through Action

There’s freedom in not needing anyone’s approval. I started to feel it in my bones. I began to laugh again.

The weight lifted. I noticed the world again—the way the sky changes colors at dusk, the way the wind feels on my face. Life was waiting for me.

I started to walk more—no destination, no purpose—just walking. I felt the ground under my feet, solid and real.

The loss of my loved ones will always be there. But it doesn’t define me anymore. It’s part of the story, not the whole of it.

Moving Forward

If you’re stuck seeking approval, start small—one step at a time. You don’t have to change everything at once.

Ask yourself: What do I want today? Just for today, choose that. It’s enough.

Reflect on the moments when you felt trapped—times when you felt overwhelmed by external pressures and were trying to meet everyone’s expectations; when you sacrificed your own needs and desires to please others; or when you found yourself constantly worrying about the opinions of others. By reflecting on these moments, you can identify what has been holding you back and take the first step toward living authentically.

Self-reflection is a crucial part of the journey to self-love and self-acceptance. It’s a mirror that allows you to see yourself more clearly, understand your wants and needs, and be free to fulfill them.

It takes time to break free. The habits run deep. But each small step chips away at the chains.

Embracing Self-Acceptance

Self-acceptance wasn’t easy. It felt foreign, like trying on clothes that didn’t fit. But little by little, I got used to it.

I stopped chasing what others thought was beautiful. I looked at my imperfections and decided they were mine. The quirks became markers of who I was.

Writing helped. It was messy and unfiltered, but it was real.

I saw my patterns. The way I bent over backward to fit in. The way I swallowed my voice to keep others happy.

So, I began taking small actions. For instance, I started embracing my uniqueness by wearing clothes that made me smile (like a short mini skirt!).

I spent more time with people who supported me. The ones who made me feel seen. Their encouragement helped me believe that I didn’t have to change to be worthy.

The Healing Process

Of course, there were setbacks. Days when I slipped back into old habits. But each time, I chose to keep moving forward.

It’s not a straight path. There are twists and turns. But each small step makes you stronger.

There’s freedom in not needing anyone else’s approval. I started to feel it grow. I felt lighter, unburdened.

Conclusion

Grief changed everything. But through it, I found strength. I found my worth buried beneath all the noise.

You don’t need anyone’s approval to feel good about who you are. The only person who can define your worth is you.

So ask yourself today: Who’s writing my story?

If the answer isn’t you, it’s time to take the pen back.

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