You wake up to the sound of a notification—another email, another demand. Before your feet even touch the floor, you’re already calculating. Did I respond to that request? Did I handle that thing for work? Did I confirm the plans for my friend’s event this weekend? You scan through your mental list, a running tally of everything you’re doing for everyone else. It’s an exhausting game of emotional calculus, where you factor in everyone else’s wants, needs, and expectations.
And yet… when was the last time you put yourself in your own equation?
It’s easy to believe that if we just do enough, people will finally see us—really see us. Maybe if we work a little harder, go the extra mile, or anticipate their needs before they even have them, we’ll earn the love, validation, and appreciation we crave. We tell ourselves it’s just being a good partner, employee, mother, friend. But beneath it, there’s a quiet, desperate hope: If I do this, maybe they’ll finally acknowledge my worth. Maybe I’ll feel like I matter.
For high-achieving, neurodivergent women, this pattern is second nature. We’ve spent a lifetime pushing through exhaustion, overriding our own needs, and convincing ourselves that asking for help is selfish. We learned early on that “good girls” don’t take up space. They don’t need much. They just try harder. And so we do.
We over-function at work, taking on extra tasks even though our plate is already overflowing. We stretch ourselves thin at home, trying to be the mom who does it all—laundry folded, kids entertained, kitchen spotless. We make space for other people’s emotions, nodding and reassuring and holding their burdens, even as our own pile higher.
But here’s the painful truth: If you are constantly factoring someone into your decisions while they never factor you into theirs, you are misaligned.
You think about their feelings, how your choices will impact them, how they might react—but do they do the same for you? Are they adjusting their life to accommodate you, the way you do for them?
If not, you’re playing a one-sided game. You are running a race where no one else is even on the track.
Maybe you don’t realize how much of your self-worth you’ve handed over to other people. But if your inner monologue sounds something like this:
Then you’ve unknowingly outsourced your happiness, your sense of worth, and your emotional well-being. It’s like expecting a vending machine to give you a gourmet meal—you keep inserting your time, energy, and hope, only to get back crumbs and disappointment.
Because the hard truth is: No one else is responsible for making you feel whole.
Your boss, your partner, your mother, your friends—none of them were meant to be the guardians of your self-esteem. They have their own lives, their own wounds, their own limitations. And when you place your worth in their hands, you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak.
So how do you stop? How do you reclaim yourself when you’ve spent years—decades—defining your worth through other people’s eyes?
You start by turning inward.
Instead of waiting for someone else to reflect your value back at you, you begin the work of seeing yourself. It won’t feel natural at first. It might even feel ridiculous. But re-parenting your inner child—the part of you that never got the validation she needed—isn’t a one-and-done task. It’s a practice.
Here’s where you begin:
You don’t need to keep auditioning for love. You don’t need to work overtime for scraps of validation. Your well-being is not a team effort—it belongs to you.
So step back from the mental gymnastics of trying to be “enough” for others. Sit with yourself. Breathe. And remember: You were already enough before anyone else had an opinion.