People Pleasing & Perfectionism: The Masking Combo That’s Draining You

May 12

(And how to finally take the mask off—without burning your life down)

If you’ve ever felt like you’re performing your way through life—smiling when you’re exhausted, saying yes when you’re screaming no inside, or agonizing over the perfect text to send someone you barely know—hi. Welcome. You’re not alone.

As a therapist, coach, and late-diagnosed ADHDer, I’ve sat on both sides of this struggle. I know what it feels like to shape-shift my personality just to feel acceptable. To over-explain everything because I’m afraid I’ll be misunderstood. To push myself toward perfection so no one will notice how hard I’m trying just to keep up.

And I know the cost.

Masking: The “Good Girl” Performance You Never Auditioned For

Let’s get this straight—masking isn’t “faking it.”
It’s survival.

It’s what many neurodivergent women (especially late-diagnosed ones) learned to do to stay safe, accepted, and successful in a world that wasn’t built for our brains.

And most of the time, it starts early:

Smiling when you’re melting down inside
Learning to be the “quiet helper” in school so no one notices you’re zoning out
Overachieving because “being useful” feels safer than being seen

Sound familiar?

Over time, those tendencies evolve into perfectionism and people-pleasing—two exhausting roles that keep you in performance mode long after the curtain should’ve dropped.

Perfectionism: The “Productivity” Trauma Response

Here’s the tricky part: Perfectionism looks like a win. It gets rewarded.

You might be known as the dependable one, the organized one, the successful one.

But behind that polished image?
So. Much. Exhaustion.
So many spirals.
So much shame when the mask slips.

Perfectionism isn’t ambition—it’s often a trauma response. A way of proving to the world (and yourself) that you’re not “too much,” “too messy,” “too emotional,” “too inconsistent.”

But being a perfectly put-together, totally dependable, always-available version of yourself is not sustainable. Especially if you’re neurodivergent and masking your way through every interaction.

People Pleasing: When “Nice” Becomes a Disguise

People-pleasing is another flavor of masking that often goes unnoticed. It’s praised, even.

But saying “yes” when you mean “no” isn’t kindness—it’s self-erasure.
And if your people-pleasing is rooted in Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD)—which is super common in ADHDers—it doesn’t just feel like discomfort. It feels like survival.

The cost? You slowly lose your voice, your preferences, and your identity. You forget what you actually want because you’re so busy avoiding conflict, disappointment, or disconnection.

This Combo is a Burnout Recipe

When people-pleasing and perfectionism team up under the banner of masking, they create an inner war:

You want rest, but you feel guilty for not doing more.
You crave authenticity, but fear being judged if you show your real self.
You want boundaries, but the idea of someone being disappointed by you? Unbearable.

This mental and emotional tug-of-war leads straight to burnout, resentment, and a lingering sense that you’re never really safe—unless you’re performing.

You’re not lazy. You’re not broken. You’re not too much. You’re tired because the system you’re in is asking too much of you, too often.

That awareness is powerful. Because once we can name it, we can start to interrupt the loop—with compassion, not more pressure.

So What Do You Do Instead?

We’re not ripping the mask off in one dramatic moment. We’re not burning bridges or quitting jobs or ghosting your PTA group (unless that’s aligned, in which case… I support you).

We’re talking about compassionate unmasking.
Micro-moments of honesty.
Tiny acts of self-trust.

Here’s where to begin:

Start noticing: When do you over-apologize, over-explain, or offer to help just to avoid discomfort?
Pause before the yes: Ask yourself, “Do I actually want to do this, or am I afraid of what will happen if I say no?”
Practice imperfection: Say the thing even if it’s not worded perfectly. Show up even if you’re not 100%.
Use scripts that protect your peace: “I’d love to, but I don’t have the bandwidth right now” is your new best friend.

You don’t have to go cold turkey on masking. Just start getting curious about the moments where you feel yourself slipping into performance mode.

You’re not too much. You’ve just been doing too much, for too long, in a world that didn’t know how to support you.

Let’s change that—together.