Chapter 15: Living Without Approval, Living With People

One Year Later

A year has passed since Mia, whom we met in the first chapter, sat on her sofa rewriting a message to her friends ten times. She still works at the physiotherapy clinic. She still has the same friends. But a great deal has changed, mostly inside her.

This evening, Mia is writing another message to the same group of friends. She wants to suggest a weekend walk in the hills. She writes the message once, reads it through, changes one word and sends it. Then she puts the phone in her bag and goes to her pottery class, which she joined six months ago. She does not check the phone until the class is over. When she does, three friends have replied yes, one has said she cannot come and one has not replied. Mia smiles and puts the phone away.

It was not a sudden change. Over the year, Mia practised many of the ideas in this book. She noticed when she was seeking approval and asked instead what she could contribute. She looked at the story she had carried from childhood, that she must be pleasing to be loved, and began to tell a different one. She learned to say no to some requests, to stop keeping score with her sister and to speak up at work. She found a sense of belonging in her pottery class and in a volunteer role at the clinic, helping elderly patients with their exercises on Saturday mornings.

Mia still wants to be liked. She is human. Some days, an unanswered message still gives her a small sinking feeling, and she sometimes catches herself laughing at jokes she does not find funny. But the wish to be liked no longer runs her life. "I used to feel like I was always on stage," she says. "Now I feel like I am just living with people. Some of them like me, and some of them do not, and most of them are too busy with their own lives to think about me very much. That is a great relief."

In this final chapter, we will draw together the ideas of this book and look at what it means, in the end, to live without approval while living fully with people.

What Adler Offers

Alfred Adler's psychology begins with a simple observation: human beings are social at their core. We are born dependent on others, we grow up among others and almost everything we value comes to us through others. Our deepest wish is to belong. Because approval seems like proof of belonging, we often spend enormous energy seeking it. But approval is uncertain and controlled by others, and a life spent chasing it is anxious and unfree.

Adler offered another path. He believed that belonging grows from social interest: a real feeling of connection with others and a wish to contribute to their well-being. He believed that we are shaped not so much by our past as by the meanings we give it and the goals we move toward, and that these meanings and goals can change. He saw feelings of inferiority as a normal part of being human, and he believed that they can drive us toward growth on the useful side of life, rather than toward competition and comparison.

From Adler and the teachers who followed him come many practical ideas, which we have explored in this book. The question "Whose task is this?" helps us respect others' choices and carry our own. Saying no kindly allows us to give our yes freely. Encouragement, rather than praise, builds courage in others and in ourselves. Relationships between equals, side by side rather than above and below, allow real cooperation. The three life tasks of work, friendship and love remind us to keep our lives balanced. Understanding our family roles helps us keep their strengths and loosen their cages. Stepping out of power struggles turns conflict into shared problem-solving. The courage to be imperfect frees us to act. And contribution offers a quiet answer to loneliness and to the hunger for approval.

What unites all these ideas is a single shift of attention: from "What do they think of me?" to "How can I live well with them?" This shift does not mean caring less about other people. It means caring about them more truly, and caring less about their judgment of us. It turns our attention from a mirror to a window.

Adler was an optimist. He believed that people can change at any age, that discouragement can be met with encouragement and that every person has a creative power to shape their own life. His optimism was not naive. He had seen war, poverty and great suffering. But he believed that understanding and courage could help people move toward a better way of living, both for themselves and for their communities.

Some People Will Not Like You

One of the hardest truths of living without approval is this: however kind, honest and generous you are, some people will not like you. They may disagree with your choices, dislike your manner or simply not feel a connection with you. This is not a sign that you are doing something wrong. It is a sign that you are a real person, with real opinions and a real way of being, living among other real people who have their own tastes and views.

For people who have spent their lives seeking approval, this truth can feel frightening. But it can also be very freeing. If it is impossible to be liked by everyone, then there is no point in trying. We can stop shaping ourselves to fit every person's expectations and start being who we are, with kindness and respect. The people who value us will then value the real person, not a performance.

The question from Adler's tradition, "Whose task is this?", applies here too. Whether someone likes you is, in the end, their task. It depends on their feelings, their history and their tastes. Your task is to be honest, kind and fair in the way you treat them. If you do that, you have done your part. Their response belongs to them.

This does not mean that we should ignore others' views or stop learning from criticism. Sometimes, when someone does not like us, it is because we have done something hurtful or unfair, and it is right to listen, reflect and change. The point is not to dismiss every negative reaction, but to stop treating every negative reaction as a verdict on our worth. We can ask, "Is there something here I can learn?" without asking, "Does this mean I am worthless?"

Living without approval, then, is not a way of becoming hard or careless. It is a way of becoming steady. A steady person can be warm and open, because their sense of worth does not rise and fall with every reaction. They can listen to criticism, because it does not crush them. They can give freely, because they are not giving in order to be liked. They can enjoy approval when it comes, without needing it to feel whole.

Think of a tree in a garden. Some days the sun shines on it, and some days it rains. Some people admire it, and some walk past without noticing it. The tree does not change its shape to please each passer-by. It simply grows, giving shade and fruit to whoever comes near. People who live without approval are a little like that. They are rooted in their own values and in their sense of belonging to the human community, and from that steady place, they can give freely to others, whatever the weather of other people's opinions.

Liesel at Her Farewell

Liesel is sixty and has just retired after thirty-five years as a postal worker. For most of those years, she delivered letters and parcels to the same neighbourhood. She knew every house, every dog and most of the families. Everyone liked her, and that mattered to her a great deal. For years, she went out of her way to please people: carrying parcels up stairs, waiting while elderly residents found their glasses, listening to long stories on doorsteps even when it made her late.

In the last few years of her work, Liesel began to notice the cost of this. She often finished her rounds late and exhausted. She felt hurt when a resident complained, even about something that was not her fault. And she sometimes wondered whether people liked her for herself or only because she was always so helpful.

A colleague lent her a book about Adler's ideas, and Liesel recognized herself in it. She began to make small changes. She still helped people, because she enjoyed it, but she stopped going far beyond what was reasonable just to be liked. When a resident complained unfairly, she listened politely, explained calmly and did not let it ruin her day. She found that most residents did not notice the difference, and those who did seemed to respect her more.

At her farewell, the neighbourhood surprised her with a small party at the community centre. Many residents came. They gave her cards, flowers and a photograph album. As she read the cards, Liesel noticed something. Almost nobody thanked her for being pleasing or for always saying yes. They thanked her for her warmth, her reliability, her care for the elderly residents, her interest in their children and the way she had become part of the neighbourhood. They thanked her for her contribution.

Liesel cried a little that evening. "All those years," she said, "I thought I had to earn their liking by doing more and more. But what they valued was not the extra things. It was simply that I cared, and that I was there. I could have been there and cared without wearing myself out. I wish I had known that sooner. But I know it now."

Liesel now spends some of her free time helping at a lunch club for older people in the same neighbourhood. She still carries things up stairs and listens to long stories, but now she does it because she chooses to, and she goes home when she is tired. Several of her old residents come to the lunch club. One of them told her, "You were always our postwoman. Now you are our friend." Liesel says that the difference is exactly the difference between seeking approval and simply belonging.

Jonas Speaks Up

Jonas, whom we met in Chapter 2, was the heating technician who could not stand up for himself because, as he said, "That is just how I was raised." After seeing that his silence was serving a purpose of his own, protecting him from conflict, he began to practise speaking up in small ways. First, he told his manager that the shift schedule was unfair. The schedule changed. Then he told a friend, kindly, that he needed the money he had lent him returned. The friend was embarrassed, apologized and paid him back over several months.

The hardest conversation was with his partner. Jonas had always gone along with her plans, then felt resentful. One evening, he told her honestly that he wanted to have more say in how they spent their weekends, and that he had been unhappy about some of the family events he had attended without wanting to. His partner was hurt at first, because she had not known. But then she said, "I always wondered why you seemed so quiet afterwards. I would much rather you told me."

Jonas's relationships have not become perfect. Some conversations are still uncomfortable, and he still sometimes falls back into silence, especially when he is tired. But he no longer lives with a constant quiet resentment. He says that the most important change was realizing that his silence had not been protecting his relationships. It had been slowly damaging them, because the people he loved did not know who he really was.

"I thought that if I spoke up, people would like me less," Jonas says. "Some of them did, for a while. But the people who matter most to me like me more now, because they actually know me. And I like myself more too." This is one of the quiet gifts of living without approval: we become known, and being known is the beginning of real belonging.

Jonas also noticed that speaking up made him better at listening. When he had been silent, he had often been half-listening, busy with his own unspoken thoughts. Now that he says what he thinks, his mind is freer to hear what others think. Honesty, he discovered, is not the opposite of kindness. It is one of its foundations.

Farah's Group Chat, a Year On

Farah, the fifteen-year-old from Chapter 1 who counted reactions in her group chat, is now sixteen. She still uses the chat every day, and she still notices reactions to her messages. But she has made a habit of the change she began a year ago: looking first for something warm to say to her friends before posting anything of her own.

This habit has changed her place in the group. Her friends often come to her when they are worried or upset, because they know she will listen. When one of the girls in the group went through a hard time at home, it was Farah she messaged first. Farah stayed up late talking with her and encouraged her to talk to a teacher she trusted. Later, the girl thanked her and said she did not know what she would have done without her.

Farah has also started drawing again. She posts her drawings occasionally, and sometimes they receive many reactions and sometimes few. She has noticed that she cares much less than before. "I draw because I love it," she says. "If people like the drawings, that is nice. If they do not, I still love drawing. My friends know me for other things now, not just for what I post."

Farah's story is a reminder that the ideas in this book are not only for adults. Young people today face a particularly intense version of the hunger for approval, because so much of their social life is visible and countable. But they can also learn, often more quickly than adults, to shift their attention from reactions to contribution, and to find belonging in being a good friend rather than in being admired.

Farah's aunt, who first talked with her about the group chat, says that she has learned from Farah too. "I used to check my own messages all the time," she says. "Watching Farah, I realized that I was doing exactly what I had told her not to do. So now we remind each other. When one of us starts counting reactions, the other says, 'Who could you be kind to instead?' It works for both of us."

Practical Steps: Carrying These Ideas Forward

The first step is to choose the ideas that have helped you most. You do not need to carry everything in this book. Choose three or four ideas that speak to your life. For some people, these might be the shift from approval to contribution, the question "Whose task is this?", the courage to be imperfect and relationships between equals. For others, they might be different. Write them on a card and keep it where you will see it.

The second step is to practise in small ways, every day. The ideas in this book are not changes you make once. They are habits you build slowly, through many small actions. One honest opinion, one kind no, one word of encouragement, one small contribution, one task handed back: each of these is a step.

The third step is to expect setbacks. You will fall back into old patterns, especially when you are tired, stressed or with people who know your old roles well. This is normal. Adler believed that change is possible, but he never said it was quick or smooth. When you notice an old pattern, simply notice it, and choose again.

The fourth step is to share these ideas with someone. Talk about them with a friend, a partner or a family member. Like Farah and her aunt, you may find that you can remind each other. Shared practice is easier than practice alone, and it is itself a form of social interest.

The fifth step is to keep looking outward. Whenever you notice yourself caught in worry about what others think of you, ask the question that runs through this whole book: "What can I contribute here?" It may not solve everything, but it will almost always point you in a better direction.

The sixth step is to be kind to yourself. Living without approval does not mean being harsh with yourself. It means treating yourself, too, as a member of the human community who deserves encouragement, patience and respect. Speak to yourself the way you would speak to a good friend who was trying to change.

What These Ideas Cannot Do

It is honest, at the end of this book, to say what Adler's ideas cannot do. They cannot make every relationship easy. Some relationships will remain difficult, however wisely we approach them, because the other person is not willing or able to cooperate. In such cases, the most we can do is our own part, and sometimes that part includes creating distance.

Some problems need skilled, personal care. If you are struggling with very low mood, constant fear, the effects of past trauma or other serious difficulties, please talk to a doctor or another qualified professional. Adler himself was a doctor, and he would have been the first to say so. The ideas in this book can support that care.

They cannot excuse harm. Nothing in this book suggests that you should stay in a relationship where you are being hurt, threatened or controlled. If you are in such a situation, please reach out to people and services that can help you be safe. If you are in immediate danger, call your local emergency number. If you ever feel that you might hurt yourself, contact a helpline or a medical facility right away.

And they cannot do the work for you. Adler's ideas offer a way of seeing, and many practical tools. But the seeing and the doing are yours. That is perhaps the most hopeful thing about them. Whatever has happened, whatever your family, your past or your circumstances, you can begin to live differently with people today, in small ways, starting with the next conversation you have.

A Short Exercise: Your Own Rules for Living With People

In this final exercise, you will write a short set of personal rules or reminders for how you want to live with people. They are not rules that others must follow. They are your own guiding principles, drawn from what you have learned in this book and in your own life. This exercise takes about thirty minutes.

Take a page and write a title, such as "How I Want to Live With People" or simply "My Reminders". Then look back through the chapters of this book, and through any notes you have made while reading. Choose between five and ten ideas that matter most to you.

For each idea, write one sentence in your own words, as a reminder to yourself. For example: "Ask what I can contribute, not how I can be liked." "Whose task is this?" "My no makes my yes real." "Encourage effort, not just results." "Side by side, not above and below." "Tend all three tasks." "I can keep my family role's strengths and leave its cage." "Step out of the struggle, without giving in." "Good enough is enough." "Small gifts, every day." Make them your own.

At the bottom of the page, write one sentence about the kind of person you want to be among others. Not the kind of person you want others to think you are, but the kind of person you want to be. For example: "I want to be someone who is honest, kind and useful, whether or not anyone is watching."

Keep this page somewhere you will see it. Read it when you feel caught in old patterns. Add to it when you learn something new. Over time, it will become a record of your own way of living with people. Mia wrote her page on the anniversary of the evening she rewrote her message ten times. Her last sentence read: "I want to be someone who belongs because I care, not because I please." She has it pinned beside her bed, next to a small clay bowl she made in her first pottery class. The bowl is a little lopsided. She likes it that way.

Chapter Summary

Adler's psychology begins with the observation that human beings are social, and that our deepest wish is to belong. Approval seems like proof of belonging, but it is uncertain and controlled by others. Adler offered another path: social interest, contribution, equality and courage. The ideas in this book, from "Whose task is this?" to the courage to be imperfect, share one shift of attention: from "What do they think of me?" to "How can I live well with them?" Some people will not like us, however kind we are, and accepting this can be freeing.

Mia a year later, Liesel at her farewell, Jonas speaking up and Farah in her group chat all show that living without approval does not mean living without people. It means living with them more honestly, more generously and more steadily. Adler's ideas cannot make every relationship easy, excuse harm or do the work for us. But they offer a hopeful and practical way of seeing.

Throughout this book, we have met many people in many relationships: friends, partners, parents, children, siblings, colleagues, neighbours and strangers. In each case, the same simple truths helped. We belong through what we give. Other people's choices and feelings are their own. We are equals, side by side. We do not need to be perfect. And whatever has happened before, we can begin again, with the next person we meet.