As a woman in her late 20s, I can safely say I’ve experienced my fair share of trauma – from experiences in my early childhood to my teenage years, to my mid-20s and until right now.
Whenever I speak to others about my long and tough journey with mental health, they often respond in awe and reference how strong and resilient I must be for having gone through these things and coming out the other side so well.
It’s nice to receive this recognition and validation. These experiences certainly did just that, but I also can’t forget the other ways my trauma has manifested.
I regularly hear trauma being justified as something good for people to go through so they can become strong. My trauma might have made me a stronger, more robust person, but it also made me an overgiver, a people pleaser, a perfectionist, someone who can’t cope with conflict – the list goes on.
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If someone were to ask me when I started overgiving, I’m not sure I’d be able to give them a straight answer. It’s something that feels so familiar to me, my innate nature, it feels like it’s almost who I am. I can trace it back to my childhood years when I started performing a counsellor role for just about everyone in my life. Whether it be my parents or school friends, I was giving out advice and guidance when I wasn’t of the age or maturity to give it. Although I knew this deep down to some degree, it made me feel important, valued, and needed.
I also learned at an early age that love was transactional, that it had to be earned, and in my mind, what better way to earn it than by striving effortlessly to meet people’s needs. This is not to say I’m not also simply a nice person who wants to help other people, but it is also critical to note that overgiving isn’t something to take lightly. At face value, it doesn’t sound like a bad trait; it sounds like a lovely thing to be so focused on building others up and ensuring the people in your life know they are loved and cared for.
I’ve gone through my life believing my value is directly tied to what I can do for others and what they think of me. My day could be made or broken by whether I was deemed a good or bad daughter, good or bad girlfriend, good or bad friend, etc. After so long seeking this external validation to prove I’m worthy, I’ve got to a point where I recognise the implications, and I truly am utterly exhausted. I find myself sitting on the therapy couch, burnt out and mentally drained from trying to be the best for everyone.
However, the implications of it are significant. Constantly focusing on other people, their needs, and plotting ways to meet them is both emotionally and physically exhausting. This exhaustion can lead to stress and burnout despite good intentions. On top of that, when the overgiving doesn’t get the desired outcome, it’s not uncommon to experience resentment or anger towards the people you are constantly giving to. This is especially the case if this generosity or care is not being reciprocated or taken for granted.
In my case, I’m always the friend who will drop everything for you in a moment of crisis, and there have been times when I’ve been in that place of chaos, and the same wasn’t done for me. I understand logically that this isn’t always possible; people are busy and have commitments. They aren’t bad people for not being able to do this, but in the moment, it still can feel disheartening when you don’t get back what you give. It can feel like people don’t care about you or love you.
I feel a need to be everyone’s light, to not show my mental struggles, to build them up, and go to the greatest extremes to meet their needs
This shows the toxic side of overgiving, how it becomes a matter of relying so heavily on others for boosts and not being able to fill your own cup. It can make you feel helpless and as though you’re not in control. Being back in therapy at the moment, this is something I’m working on tackling alongside people pleasing. I’m learning I can’t expect people to give the same amount back, and while this reality check is unpleasant and uncomfortable, it is very necessary.
As I say, these people aren’t bad-natured; they just do not have the same trauma response as I do. They aren’t fighting to prove their worth or looking endlessly for validation. Unfortunately, for those overgivers who have failed to come to this realisation, the resentment and anger associated with not getting the same level of treatment back can lead to break-ups, end friendships, or cutting people off. This is because overgiving creates unhealthy relationship dynamics where the giver constantly feels exploited and the recipient feels burdened or entitled.
The other side to this is that people become used to the treatment you give them, so to expect them to suddenly oppose being treated with love and care goes against human nature. However, at the same time, for some people, this level of treatment can feel overwhelming, and they don’t know how to respond. While most people aren’t bad for not giving back what they are receiving from an overgiver, because let’s face it, it is hard to match that level, there’s also a side of overgiving that does attract overtakers. What I mean by that is people who like the giving and want to take advantage of it. This is the reality for some. Luckily, this hasn’t been the case for me.
I feel a need to be everyone’s light, to not show my mental struggles, to build them up, and go to the greatest extremes to meet their needs. However, within the process, I find my cup is empty and draining even though there’s nothing left in it, and I’ve nothing left to give myself. I show up for everyone but myself, making everything easy for everyone. It’s not a discovery for me that there is a toxic side to overgiving, but it has been such a hard habit to break simply because I started to panic if I didn’t overgive, I wouldn’t have anyone.
Although people become used to the standards you set in relationships and friendships, I’ve come to realise this fear is irrational. People do appreciate what I give them, but they aren’t simply connected with me for the overgiving. If anything, I find when I’m getting honest with friends and family these days, they would love nothing more than for me to be more selfish and put myself first more. It’s important to keep in mind that traumatic experiences are very serious, and while it is true to an extent that they build resilience, individuals also develop unhealthy responses.
Although there’s a side to my overgiving that reflects wonderful qualities like kindness, compassion, and deep care, it undeniably has a negative edge. It quickly turns into self-neglect and becomes emotionally destabilising. Working through this in therapy and actively tackling it is finally allowing me to nurture healthier relationships and, most importantly, begin regulating my emotions and building myself up from within, rather than constantly depending on others to make me feel good and enough.
