“In an addictive or depressed family system, the disease becomes the organizing principle. The affected person becomes the central figure from which everyone else organizes their behaviors and reactions, usually in what is a slow insidious process. Typically family members do what they can to bring greater consistency, structure, and safety into a family system that is becoming unpredictable, chaotic, or frightening. To do this they often adopt certain roles or a mixture of roles.”

Claudia Black
I grew up in a home shaped by active alcoholism. Somewhere along the way, I became a placater — a people pleaser. I spent much of my life taking care of everyone around me, often at the expense of myself.

For years, I put other people’s needs before my own. I convinced myself that I liked taking care of people and that I was good at it. And in many ways, I was. It’s not uncommon for people pleasers to choose careers in the helping professions. I became a nurse.

As a new graduate nurse working twelve-hour shifts on a busy pediatric unit at a fast-paced university hospital, I desperately wanted to please everyone — my supervisors, my coworkers, my patients, and their families. I worked through breaks, skipped lunches, and pushed myself beyond exhaustion trying to meet everyone’s needs. Yet no matter how hard or how fast I worked, I still came home feeling like I could have done more.

I had dreamed of becoming a pediatric nurse my entire life. Now I was finally doing it, and I was miserable.

My constant need to please others was draining me physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

I remember learning in early recovery about the airplane safety instructions: put on your own oxygen mask first before helping your child. That idea felt completely foreign to me. But deep down, I could see the truth in it. I wasn’t any good to my patients or my family if I was completely depleted myself.

One of the first acts of self-care I took was finding a nursing job better suited to the kind of life I wanted to live. I left the hospital and continued working part-time as a nurse doing home visits.

It wasn’t until I entered recovery that I realized how long I had been neglecting myself. In the beginning, putting my own needs first felt selfish. Self-care came in baby steps. I started walking every day, reading again, getting massages, and spending time with friends.

Through prayer, meditation, journaling, and working the steps with a sponsor, I slowly began to find myself again.

Recovery helped me recover — to regain possession of myself.

I’m discovering new things about myself every day. Today I am so much more than a wife and mother. I am a writer and an artist. I used to hate being alone. I spent my whole life looking to others to make me happy. Today I know that I can’t look to my loved ones to “make” me happy that’s my job. Only when I take the time to care for myself, can I share the best version of me with the people I love.