Devi Nair
š§ Listened in audio š¢ Narrated by Meg Josephson ā± Duration: 7 hours š·ļø Publisher: Simon & Schuster Audio & Gallery Books
This book didn't just speak to me. It saw me. Meg Josephson doesn't just name fawning. She traces it all the way back. To the child who learned that being easy, agreeable, and small was the price of safety. To the girl who was taught to hug Uncle Richard whether she wanted to or not. To the version of you who stopped knowing what she liked, what she wanted, what felt like her, because she'd been adapting for so long she forgot there was a her to come back to. Listening to Meg Josephson narrate her own words felt like hearing a wiser, softer version of myself whispering truths I'd forgotten I knew. Her compassion never slips into cliche. Instead, she offers quiet revelations about what it means to find safety within yourself instead of searching for validations from those who may never give it. That's a gut punch with compassion wrapped around it, and Josephson delivers it so gently, you almost don't feel it landing until you're already crying.
What also hit hard was the section on healing, specifically, what healing actually means Moving forward while still holding the loss. And for women especially, this book goes somewhere a lot of other such books doesn't. It names the conditioning directly. The good girl. The cool girl. The caretaker. The one who was taught to want less, need less, be less. And then wondered why she felt so depleted and so far from herself. There's something deeply radical about how Josephson reframes self-care, not as bubble baths or affirmations, but as an act of rebellion in a world that profits from out self doubt.
Each chapter felt like slowly building trust with my inner child again, reminding her that she's not too much, not broken, and that it's safe to take up space. And by the end, you're left with a sense that you are not in trouble, you are not secretly a bad person, and healing at your own pace is exactly the pace you're supposed to be at.
Would I recommend it? This book moved me in a way few nonfiction titles ever have. It's for anyone who has spent years apologizing for their own existence or hustling for love that never felt secure. This book doesn't just explain people-pleasing. It honours the journey back to yourself. It's warm, it's precise, it's deeply humane, and it gave language to things I didn't know I needed named. If you've ever shrunk yourself to fit a room, carried guilt that was never yours, or wondered why you're still people-pleasing even when you know better, this is your book!
š§ Listened in audio š¢ Narrated by Meg Josephson ā± Duration: 7 hours š·ļø Publisher: Simon & Schuster Audio & Gallery Books
This book didn't just speak to me. It saw me. Meg Josephson doesn't just name fawning. She traces it all the way back. To the child who learned that being easy, agreeable, and small was the price of safety. To the girl who was taught to hug Uncle Richard whether she wanted to or not. To the version of you who stopped knowing what she liked, what she wanted, what felt like her, because she'd been adapting for so long she forgot there was a her to come back to. Listening to Meg Josephson narrate her own words felt like hearing a wiser, softer version of myself whispering truths I'd forgotten I knew. Her compassion never slips into cliche. Instead, she offers quiet revelations about what it means to find safety within yourself instead of searching for validations from those who may never give it. That's a gut punch with compassion wrapped around it, and Josephson delivers it so gently, you almost don't feel it landing until you're already crying.
What also hit hard was the section on healing, specifically, what healing actually means Moving forward while still holding the loss. And for women especially, this book goes somewhere a lot of other such books doesn't. It names the conditioning directly. The good girl. The cool girl. The caretaker. The one who was taught to want less, need less, be less. And then wondered why she felt so depleted and so far from herself. There's something deeply radical about how Josephson reframes self-care, not as bubble baths or affirmations, but as an act of rebellion in a world that profits from out self doubt.
Each chapter felt like slowly building trust with my inner child again, reminding her that she's not too much, not broken, and that it's safe to take up space. And by the end, you're left with a sense that you are not in trouble, you are not secretly a bad person, and healing at your own pace is exactly the pace you're supposed to be at.
Would I recommend it? This book moved me in a way few nonfiction titles ever have. It's for anyone who has spent years apologizing for their own existence or hustling for love that never felt secure. This book doesn't just explain people-pleasing. It honours the journey back to yourself. It's warm, it's precise, it's deeply humane, and it gave language to things I didn't know I needed named. If you've ever shrunk yourself to fit a room, carried guilt that was never yours, or wondered why you're still people-pleasing even when you know better, this is your book!