“Let me fix your collar.”
Frozen with anxiety from feeling claustrophobic in an overcrowded elevator, I barely turned my head to mutter, “Thank you,” as the woman behind me adjusted the collar of my shirt at the back of my neck.
But when the elevator doors opened to the 6th floor of the Coral Ballrooms at Hilton Hawaiian Village for the Wahine Forum, I stepped out. I felt the anxiety dissipate into the spaciousness of the wide-open space.
I turned around to the woman standing behind me and asked, “Were you the one who adjusted my collar?”
“Yes,” she responded.
“Thank you so much. I hate it when people don’t speak up. I went to an event with all women a few months ago, and I couldn’t fully zip up my dress, so I was going to ask someone at the event to help. I forgot. The zipper was exposed the entire night, and nobody said anything.”
“And you know they were all looking.”
And that was the worst part. She was right. They saw and didn’t say anything.
It was such a small gesture to adjust my collar, but I appreciated it because she wasn’t criticizing me or trying to embarrass me. She noticed something that I couldn’t see and helped me.
There is a difference between people who point out what’s wrong with you to make you feel small (or sweep it under the rug) and people who point something out because they genuinely have your back.
My mom was my first bully, so I had the unfortunately early life experience of thinking that I deserved to be criticized and treated like I didn’t matter.
And when a belief is ingrained in your subconscious and nervous system, it drives your behavior. And when repeated enough times, the behavior becomes automatic, just like how you can black out and not remember the last mile of the highway because you have driven on it the same way so many times.
As a result, I spent decades surrounding myself with people who were unloving and unsupportive.
I wasn’t consciously choosing this. My beliefs turned me into a people-pleaser on autopilot who had no internal validation and was reliant on other people’s approval. This very slowly chipped away at my self-worth until there was almost nothing left.
And it wasn’t always obvious.
When I had an eating disorder the summer before my senior year of high school, I weighed only a gaunt 85 pounds and the only person who asked me if I was okay was my Spanish teacher.
When I moved to Chicago in my twenties, my dad berated what he thought was a bad decision and told me he wasn’t going to help me move.
When I bought a red convertible while living in Chicago, most of my friends and family told me it wasn’t practical, and I would regret it.
When I moved to Hawaii in my thirties, my friends and family told me that it was unrealistic and I would regret it.
And when I started working remotely from Hawaii in 2018 (back when working remotely was practically unheard of), everybody thought I was fucking crazy.
When I was writing my book, Running in Slippers, I was venting to a friend about something I was struggling with. She responded with, “I don’t know why you don’t just quit.”
And the crazy part is, none of the people who doubted me have lives I would want.
I have no memories of supportive people in my life until I finally got my shit together, hired a coach, and did the inner work to truly believe that I deserve to be surrounded by people who see that I matter. Because I do.
Never underestimate the importance of surrounding yourself with loving and supportive people.
Here’s what I didn’t understand for most of my life:
When you don’t believe you deserve to be treated well, you can spend a lot of time accepting treatment you wouldn’t wish on anyone else.
I was so busy trying to get people to approve of me that I rarely stopped to ask myself whether I even liked how they treated me because I didn’t think it mattered.
And when I finally started developing my own self-worth, I stopped working so fucking hard to convince people to see my value. I stopped giving so much weight to the opinions of people whose lives I wouldn’t want to live. And I started paying more attention to the people who genuinely cared about me.
Just to be clear, being supportive doesn’t mean agreeing with everything someone says or telling them what they want to hear. But it can look like encouraging someone to pursue a dream you don’t understand, checking on someone who’s clearly struggling instead of pretending everything is fine, or celebrating someone else’s success without making it mean anything about yourself.
And sometimes it’s a stranger noticing your collar is folded under and taking two seconds to fix it.
And how much is surrounding yourself with people who don’t genuinely love and support you costing you?
For example, you’re fiercely loyal to friends who wouldn’t even tell you that you have a sesame seed in your front teeth or that your dress has been unzipped for the last three hours because you’re so afraid of losing the connection that you’ve never stopped to ask whether they’re actually good friends to you.
Or you finally work up the courage to tell a friend you’re thinking about starting your own business, and instead of asking about your plans or cheering you on, she says, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Most businesses fail.” So, you spend the next twenty minutes defending a dream you were excited about five minutes ago because you’ve become so accustomed to people questioning your decisions.
Or you get a promotion you’ve worked your ass off for, and when you excitedly tell your friend, she responds, “Must be nice!” So, you immediately downplay your accomplishment and start explaining how stressful the new responsibilities will be because you’ve learned that celebrating yourself around certain people makes them uncomfortable.
And that shit doesn’t just cost you emotionally. It can get financially expensive, too.
For example, you’ve stayed in a job where your manager has repeatedly passed you over for promotions, despite you doing the work of three people, because you keep believing that if you just work a little harder, she’ll finally recognize your value.
Or you’ve spent hundreds of dollars supporting a friend’s business, attending her events, and promoting her work, but when you launch your own business, she can’t even be bothered to like your Instagram post because you’ve spent so long being the supportive friend that you’ve never stopped to notice the support only goes one way.
Different situations. Same pattern: You’re giving people a level of love, loyalty, and support they aren’t giving you in return.
And when you’re constantly surrounded by people who criticize your choices, minimize your accomplishments, or make you feel guilty for wanting more, the cost isn’t just how they treat you. It’s costing you the opportunities you hesitate to pursue, the money you leave on the table, and the parts of yourself you keep making smaller to maintain relationships that aren’t helping you grow.
And that’s why the people you surround yourself with matter so fucking much.
Because when you’re surrounded by people who genuinely love and support you, you don’t have to spend every conversation worrying about saying the “wrong” thing. You don’t have to justify every boundary or make yourself smaller so someone else can feel bigger.
You get to put that time and energy into building a life you actually want instead of constantly trying to earn your place in someone else’s.
So, if you’re the one asking, “How do I get these people to love and support me?”
Start asking, “Why am I surrounding myself with people who make me feel like I have to earn it in the first place?”
Insight Is Cute. Now Act.
Recognizing that someone isn’t good for you doesn’t automatically make it easy to stop giving them so much access to you.
This week, pay attention to one relationship where you might be giving more love, loyalty, or support than you’re receiving.
For example, you get a promotion and your friend’s response is, “Must be nice!” So you downplay something you worked your ass off for because you’ve learned that your success makes her uncomfortable.
Or you rearrange your entire weekend to support a friend’s event, but when you invite her to yours, she can’t make it. Again. And you tell yourself she’s just really busy because admitting the friendship might be one-sided feels worse than making another excuse for her.
Before you automatically dismiss how someone’s behavior makes you feel, ask yourself:
Would I treat someone I love and care about this way?
Do I feel encouraged and supported by this person, or do I regularly leave our interactions questioning myself?
Am I holding on to this relationship because it genuinely adds something to my life, or because I’m afraid of what will happen if I stop trying so hard?
Then, practice one small change. You could stop asking someone who consistently discourages you for advice about your dreams. You could share your good news with someone who will actually celebrate it. Or maybe you stop rearranging your entire life for someone who wouldn’t inconvenience herself for five minutes to help you.
And here’s the part I learned the hard way:
If you recognize that you’ve been accepting less than you deserve, don’t turn around and beat yourself up for it.
You may have spent years believing that love and approval were things you had to earn. Of course, changing that belief and the relationships built around it can feel uncomfortable.
Notice the pattern. Get curious about why you’ve accepted it. Give yourself the compassion you needed when you first learned that your needs didn’t matter.
And start making different choices, one relationship at a time.
Okay, But Now What?
If you’ve ever downplayed an accomplishment because you didn’t want to sound like you were bragging, watered yourself down because someone called you “too much,” or stayed quiet when you had something amazing to contribute, there’s a reason making yourself smaller may feel so familiar.
And here’s where that shit gets expensive.
The same childhood belief that makes you afraid to be your hilarious, quirky-ass self on YouTube may also be the reason you leave half your accomplishments off your speaker bio, describe your business so vaguely that nobody knows what the fuck you actually do, or talk yourself out of applying for a promotion because you don’t want anyone thinking you’re full of yourself.
Different behaviors. Same belief: If I’m fully seen, I might not be accepted.
And until you start questioning that story, you may keep hiding the very things that could bring you more love, connection, opportunities, and money.
That’s exactly why I created my free Money Story Finder.
It helps you get nosy about where your money beliefs may have started, recognize how they’re still influencing your behavior, and question whether Adult You actually wants to keep living by those rules.
Because being afraid to ask for what you want is uncomfortable enough. You don’t need it fucking up your finances, too.
👉 Download the free The Money Story Finder eBook here:
https://www.runninginslippers.com/email
P.S. Ever get exactly what you wanted and then immediately feel like shit about it?
Maybe you got the raise but downplayed it because your friend is struggling financially. You booked the dream vacation but suddenly feel guilty telling your family. Or you finally have a phenomenal business month and start wondering who might think you’re getting too big for your britches.
Since when did your success become something you need to apologize for?
In this video, I’m breaking down success guilt, how childhood beliefs about belonging can make you downplay your accomplishments, hide your success, or even sabotage your income, plus an action step to help you start celebrating yourself without managing everyone else’s feelings.
You can love people without making yourself smaller to keep them comfortable.
👉 Watch: How to Stop Downplaying Your Success So Other People Feel Better (And Why It’s Costing You Money)
With love and a whole lot of glow,
Angie
I help you rewrite the childhood stories that are keeping Adult You quiet, overworked, and underpaid, so you can say what you fu*king mean, know your worth, and make more money.
Because you deserve to feel excited about your own life.
Through my signature GLOW Method, I combine money story rewriting, identity work, practical money strategy, and real-time action to help women stop playing small, use their voice with confidence, and become the kind of woman who naturally attracts more money, opportunities, visibility, and fulfillment.
I’m the author of Running in Slippers, a raw and vulnerable memoir about my journey from self-loathing and a suicide attempt to self-love and thriving. Life kicked me in the a$$, and, in hindsight, I needed it to.
I have moved from Chicago to Hawaii on my own, jumped out of a helicopter and into the ocean Navy SEAL-style, bungee jumped, skydived, and cliff jumped, yet I am still terrified about allowing myself to be seen.
