For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been a people pleaser. In fact, to give you some idea of the severity of my people-pleasing condition, I once called up a pizzeria to inform them (politely) that I’d found some small pieces of metal inside the pizza they’d just delivered to my house. “I’m not upset,” I added hastily. “I just wanted to let you know.”

They informed me that the pieces of metal were, in fact, likely to have come from a can or a tin they’d opened in the kitchen. Somehow, I wound up apologising for wasting their time and hung up, feeling decidedly disgruntled and out of sorts.

I’ve seen therapists, attended workshops and read self-help books from cover to cover. I’ve even sat with a career development coach in a bid to find a way to stop my people-pleasing tendencies getting in the way of my work (I have a nasty habit of ’no worries-ing’ myself into a burnout-induced mess). Nothing has ever really helped. And so, when I welcomed my baby daughter in 2021, I glumly assumed the same would be true of my motherhood journey.

How wrong I was.

Nobody tells you (not really, not beyond the social media memes) just how many opinions people – sometimes complete strangers, even – will have about the way you’re raising your child. I’ve had one person demand I feed a two-month-old infant some of their homemade beef stew, for example. I’ve had another tell me that they’d like to bathe my baby (despite the fact I’d only ever met them twice before). I’ve met strangers desperate to know why I’ve dressed my “pretty girl” up to “look like a boy” (read: put trousers on her. Someone alert the elders!). I have endured people rolling their eyes over my little one’s double-barrelled surname (“Wouldn’t it be easier for her in school if she just had her dad’s name?”). I’ve had people label my child “shy” based on, ooh, two minutes in their company. I’ve had relatives ask my child for a kiss or a cuddle, then lean in to try and take one by force, regardless of whether consent has been granted or not.

Basically, it goes on and on, forever and ever. And, even though it goes against every one of my natural instincts, I’ve refused to smile through all of the above. I’ve never cheerily let out a resounding “No worries!” because, when it comes to my kid, there are so very many worries. Instead, I’ve swallowed down the discomfort I always feel when faced with a possible confrontation, and leaned hard into my role as this little person’s defender. No, she doesn’t want a hug; please respect her boundaries. No, she isn’t shy; she’s just listening to her gut and taking her time to suss things out. Thank you for your concern, but I love that she bears my name as well. Yes, she’s wearing trousers because they allow her to move and play more freely. No, she’s not eating your homemade beef stew; she can barely hold her head up, let alone chew her way through a bowl of meaty chunks!

You get the picture: when it’s my needs, my boundaries, my happiness on the line, I cave to peer pressure. When it’s my daughter’s, though? That’s when I – with great ease – find my defences and set hard boundaries. 

So, why is this? Why am I able to avoid all of my innate people-pleasing tendencies when it comes to my child? And is it the right call to do so?

“It’s not about avoiding people-pleasing,” explains Dr Kalanit Ben-Ari, author of Small Steps To Great Parenting: An Essential Guide For Busy Families. “Rather, it’s all about communicating your wants and wishes more clearly. It’s not a matter of choosing one approach over the other; it’s about finding the language and tone that allow you to be considerate of others while also vulnerably sharing your inner world.”

While I’m certainly not willing to bend to anyone’s whim when it comes to my daughter’s needs, I am always polite and respectful with my responses (with perhaps a small exception for the aforementioned beef stew incident, but that had been a tense evening all round). This, according to Dr Ben-Ari, is the key to successfully setting boundaries – particularly with loved ones and other caregivers.

“Children learn by observing us; we model for them how to navigate this world,” she muses. “So, first, take a moment to reflect on the underlying issue at hand. When it comes to our children, what might seem like a simple matter (for example, giving a child chocolate when the parents have said no) often reflects deeper issues, such as feeling undermined, insignificant or unseen.”

Dr Ben-Ari continues: “Once you understand the deeper issue underlying the situation, consider how you want to communicate the core of the issue (rather than focusing on the symptoms of a single event) in a way that fosters connection. Practising such a conversation through role play with a friend, partner or therapist can provide the practice and confidence you need to communicate more authentically.”

The main thing to remember, explains Dr Ben-Ari, is to avoid blaming or shaming. “Instead, speak from your experience, expressing your feelings and desires. Share your appreciation for their good intentions, and be vulnerable by sharing your struggles and specifying how you need their help and support.

“When people are vulnerable and open about their situations, others are more likely to offer support. You might want to briefly explain your approach or provide them with a book that articulates your perspective. Engage with your community – friends, other family members, or therapists – to reflect on these experiences.

“This practice will help you remain open to seeing the situation from various perspectives.”

And so, with these warm words of wisdom ringing in my ears, I’m off to continue to do battle – politely, respectfully – for my daughter. Wish me luck…

You can find further advice from Dr Kalanit Ben-Ari via her website www.kalanitbenari.com – or her parenting platform Get The Village.

Baby On The Brain – a Stylist podcast about the challenges of pregnancy and parenting – is back for a second series. As many of you will know, the first series was about pregnancy and how that changes every part of a woman’s life – even in the smallest ways. This second series is about returning to work after maternity leave.