
When you’re someone who naturally gives your time, energy, and empathy; it can be hard to understand why others don’t operate the same way. You show up and go the extra mile. You often anticipate needs before they’re spoken. In return, you hope for at least some version of that care back but instead, you catch yourself thinking, “I’ve done so much for them, why can’t they do the same for me?” I’ve said it before and I have wrestled with expecting more from others than they’re capable of giving.
The hard truth of the matter is, not everyone has the same capacity to give. They may not have the emotional bandwidth, the self-awareness, or even the skills to reciprocate. Expecting them to rise to your level can set you up for repeated disappointment.
I learned this years ago after I gave birth to my daughter. The labour happened quickly, and honestly, it was intense. It was something neither my husband nor I had experienced before because in our previous marriages, everything happened according to plan. I remember feeling incredibly vulnerable, but also incredibly strong for getting through it.
A few weeks later, my cousin came to visit and she casually mentioned that my husband had told one of his friends how proud he was of me for how I handled the birth.
I remember feeling unexpectedly hurt.
Not because he wasn’t proud of me. Clearly, he was, but because I hadn’t heard those words from him.
At the time, I think I was expecting him to express his pride the way I would have. I wanted the reassurance, the words, and the acknowledgement of that moment between us. Hearing that he had shared those feelings with someone else made me realize just how much I equated love and care with a particular kind of expression.
What I failed to recognize was that he had been showing me he cared in other ways. He was helping with bottles, taking on more around the house, and stepping in where he could. His actions were saying something that I was so focused on hearing in words that I almost missed it.
That doesn’t mean my need for verbal reassurance was wrong. It was a real need, but it also helped me understand that someone can care deeply and still express that care differently than I do.
He had expressed his pride. I just hadn’t recognized it as the kind of expression I was looking for.
That distinction stayed with me.
People-pleasers are often wired to earn love, approval, or security by giving. Over time, giving becomes our default mode. We pour ourselves out without stopping to ask: Am I giving because I want to, or because I’m hoping it will be reciprocated?
This pattern creates a silent contract in our minds. If I show up for you, you’ll show up for me. Most people never agreed to that contract. When they don’t meet our unspoken expectations, we feel hurt, frustrated, or taken for granted.
Everyone has different limits whether they are emotional, mental, or practical. What feels like “bare minimum” to you might be someone else’s maximum.
People can’t read your mind. I’ve realised if I feel unsupported, then maybe it’s time to try expressing my needs directly rather than hoping they’ll figure it out. It doesn’t always mean they’re going to meet me where I’m at, but it also means that I didn’t leave things left unsaid and a mystery.
Take people for who they are, not for who you hope they’ll become or the version of them you created in your head.
You decide who gets access to your energy, who you rely on emotionally, how much effort you invest, what behaviors you tolerate and where your boundaries need to exist.
If someone consistently avoids emotional conversations, stop expecting deep emotional processing from them.
If someone only shows up when it’s convenient, stop handing them VIP access to your heart.
When you stop expecting more than someone can give, you release both of you from an invisible tug-of-war. You begin to relate to them as they are, not as you wish they’d be. As you set boundaries around your giving, you’ll notice your resentment easing and your self-respect growing.
The paradox of all of this is when you stop over-giving, you often create space for relationships to become more balanced. People see you taking care of yourself and are more likely to step up or you’ll naturally gravitate toward people whose giving matches yours.
Letting go of high expectations doesn’t mean settling for less or accepting poor treatment. It means seeing people clearly, honoring your own limits, and giving from a place of authenticity rather than obligation.
That’s how you move from people-pleasing to real, reciprocal connection.
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