There's a before and after...
There’s a before and after for most of us, isn’t there? A point where the trajectory shifts, even if you don’t recognize it in the moment. For me, it wasn’t a dramatic event, no sudden illness or loss. It was a book. Specifically, Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga’s The Courage to Be Disliked.
Before, I was operating under a deeply flawed business model. Seriously. I treated my life like a hostile takeover, constantly striving to earn worthiness through achievement. I was a corporate lawyer, driven, successful… and utterly hollowed out. I thought “busy” was a badge of honor. Saying “yes” was my default. My internal metric for success wasn’t happiness, it was avoiding disapproval. I was a people-pleasing machine fueled by anxiety and caffeine. It worked, for a while. Until it didn’t. Until 42 hit and I literally couldn’t get out of bed.
I was in therapy, of course. Years of it. But nothing clicked until I stumbled upon Adlerian psychology through that book. Let me be direct: the premise – that we create our own neuroses, that trauma isn’t a life sentence, that we choose our feelings – felt… insulting. I’d spent years meticulously documenting my childhood, analyzing my parents, building a narrative of being done to.
The turning point wasn’t intellectual understanding, though. It was a specific exercise the book proposes: imagining a conversation with someone who consistently triggers you, and responding as if you’re free from the need for their approval. I chose my mother. And I argued. Not in a confrontational way, but I calmly, logically, stated my boundaries. I refused to accept her unsolicited advice. I didn’t apologize for having different values.
It felt… terrifying. And liberating.
Here's what no one tells you: it’s not about making the other person understand. It’s about you reclaiming your agency. It’s about realizing that their disapproval doesn’t diminish your worth. It’s about understanding that you are responsible for your own happiness, not their reaction.
I learned this the hard way so you don't have to. The shift wasn’t instant. There were (and still are) moments of old patterns creeping in. But now, when I feel that familiar urge to people-please, I recognize it as a faulty operating system. I can choose a different response.
I’m still a high achiever, but now it’s driven by intrinsic motivation, not a desperate need for external validation. I teach boundaries now, because I know how crippling it is to live a life dictated by the expectations of others. I’m a mother of twins, and I’m learning to model healthy boundaries for them, even when it’s messy. I'm building a life that feels sustainable, not just successful.
— Tracy Carlson, drawing the line