Help for Harmonizers: Self Care to Stop People Pleasing = Less Stress and Ease with Food

Welcome back to my series on the four archetypes of healthy habits. So far, we’ve explored the Controller and the Seeker. Today, meet the Harmonizer. Do you see yourself in Lisa’s story—or recognize a little of her in someone you love?

Harmonizers: Our Everyday Peacekeepers

If you find yourself making life easier for everyone—at work, home, even just when ordering takeout—you might feel compelled to write this story for me, just to spare me the trouble. If that feels familiar, pause for a few minutes and take this as your opportunity to receive.

Meet Lisa: Keeper of the Peace, Expert at Bending Over Backwards

Some women have a knack for peacemaking, always balancing what’s best for everyone else, and pushing their own wants to the bottom of the list. Lisa was that woman. Her kids were grown, but she still played the default “dinner coordinator”—planning, shopping, prepping, and cleaning, all on autopilot. Her husband never asked if she was tired; it was a given that dinner was her job.

At work, Lisa was “the flexible one,” holding back ideas to avoid being labeled “difficult.” With friends, she was the ultimate accommodator—“Whatever works for you!”—and routinely sacrificed her own plans.

On the surface, she said things like:

“No big deal—I’ll take care of dinner.”

“Whatever’s easiest for you.”

“It’s fine, I’m good, it’ll only take a few minutes.”

Inside, though, her real thoughts sounded more like:

“Why is it always on me to make things easy?”

“If I speak up, I’ll seem difficult.”

“I feel unseen—by them and myself.”

Eventually, the weight of always accommodating added up. She’d find herself staring at wilted veggies she meant to prep for days—too tired, too busy, too depleted. Some nights, after smoothing the edges of everyone else’s day, Lisa turned to snacks for comfort, wishing for the ease with food she promised herself, yet feeling disconnected and stuck.

What she didn’t realize is that women who identify as “self-silencing”—hiding their needs to keep the peace—are far more likely to struggle with binge eating or emotional eating. The messages to “be nice,” “don’t be a bother,” or “don’t ask for too much” run deep, shaping not just habits, but how bodies and minds carry stress. Lisa knew it physically: a lump in her throat that only got worse the more she withheld her own voice.

How Lisa Began to Find True Ease

Lisa’s shift didn’t arrive with a grand epiphany. It began on a random Tuesday, pitching yet another batch of slimy veggies—reminders of her endless good intentions. As she stood at the sink, chest tight and throat aching, she wondered, “What if I let myself off the hook—just this once?”

The next day, she texted her husband: “Would you make dinner tomorrow? Anything is fine. I just need a night off kitchen duty.” She braced for resistance. Instead, he replied, “Sure. I’ll order Thai.” The world didn’t end. Nothing dramatic happened—except the weight Melissa carried lightened, just a little.

Emboldened, she gave herself permission for more “unsexy” self-care. She bought pre-chopped veggies, despite her inner critic’s gripes about “waste.” She reminded herself that it was less wasteful than tossing unused produce and less defeating than feeling like she failed, yet again. Lisa learned to ask for help, state preferences, and—perhaps hardest—let “good enough” simply be enough.

True self-care, she realized, isn’t about grand gestures. Sometimes it’s shortcut veggies, delegated chores, or a few moments alone, no explanation required. Sometimes, it’s letting your own voice finally matter.

sometimes self care looks like a box of takeout

If Lisa’s story hits close to home, you’re in good company. Many of us were taught to “keep the peace” even as it meant losing ourselves. But true harmony isn’t built on stifling your voice—it grows when you let your own needs count, one tiny act at a time.

So, here’s your gentle prompt: Where are you putting yourself last just to make things easier for others? What’s one small, practical shift you could make for yourself this week? Buying shortcut salad counts. So does delegating a chore.

If this stirs a lump in your throat or rings a bell of recognition, you’re not alone. What part of Lisa’s story feels familiar—and what’s one small act of self-honor you're willing to try? Share below—I’d love to celebrate your courage.

With you in every real-life step,

Jill