Lisa O
You don’t always notice it at first. Low self-worth slips into ordinary days and hides in small choices. It shows in how someone speaks about themselves, how they react when attention lands on them, and what they accept without protest. The signs aren’t loud. They look like politeness or patience. Sometimes they even look like hard work. Watch long enough, and a pattern begins to emerge. It sits beneath everything else.
Saying sorry for existing
They apologize before opinions. They apologize after harmless mistakes. Sometimes they apologize for nothing at all. Sorry becomes a reflex that softens every edge. It sounds polite, but it shrinks them. The word covers over normal needs and simple wants. People start expecting it. They also expect less for themselves. By night, their messages read like a trail of small surrenders.
Brushing off compliments
Praise lands and slides away. They laugh it off or rush to name someone else who did more. The warmth in the moment never quite reaches them. They’re already searching for flaws to explain the praise away. It isn’t humility. It’s doubt dressed as manners. Even when a friend insists, they feel exposed. They change the subject and tidy the room instead.
Overexplaining every decision
A plain no turns into a paragraph. They stack reasons like a shield. Meeting times. Prior plans. Tired eyes. Anything to prove they’re not being difficult. The explanation continues to grow because they fear the silence that follows a firm answer. People nod and move on. Meanwhile, their heart pounds like it does before a late bus. It shouldn’t take this much effort to make a choice.
Avoiding any confrontation
They let small hurts pass without mention. A missed call. A sharp tone. A plan changed at the last minute. It seems easier to swallow it than to risk it all. The peace that follows isn’t peace. It’s a silent distance. Resentment sits quietly in a corner of the mind and gathers dust. And one day, it becomes too heavy.
Needing constant reassurance
They ask if they were clear. If the joke landed. If the email sounded fine. It isn’t the attention they want. It’s a relief. The relief never lasts, so the questions return. Did that look strange? Was I too quiet? Should I have stayed longer? They reread messages at midnight like weather reports.
Downplaying every win
They discuss their achievements as if they were accidents. Right place, right time. Luck more than skill. They skip through the good parts as if stopping there would be rude. Even when they worked for months, they tell the story as if anyone could have done it. Celebration feels awkward. So they clean the kitchen and call it balance.
Choosing lopsided relationships
They pour in time and energy, only to get crumbs back. Plans are made according to the other person’s schedule. Their needs wait. They call it loyalty because the word feels kind. In quiet moments, they know the exchange isn’t fair. Still, they hold on. They fear the space that opens when you stop chasing people who won’t meet you halfway.
Decision paralysis over small things
Lunch choices take too long. Outfit choices stall the morning. Any option could be wrong. They ask for opinions and then second-guess those, too. The weight never matches the decision. It’s only a sandwich. It’s only a shirt. Yet the mind treats it like a test. By the time they decide, the day already feels half spent.
Working to prove worth
They say yes to extra tasks. They offer to help before anyone asks. Rest feels suspicious. Busy days feel safer because usefulness is measurable. When a free hour appears, a tightness rises in the chest. They open the laptop and turn it off. The coffee goes cold beside them. Productivity stands in for value until sleep pulls them away.
Hiding from the spotlight
They step back when praise starts. They lower their voice in groups. They pick seats near the wall. Attention feels like a mirror they can’t control. Even good attention buzzes like a light that’s too bright. So they keep things small, hoping no one will ask follow-up questions. Later, they replay the moment and feel relief that it’s over.
Comparing without end
They notice the person who presents themselves better, the colleague who speaks smoothly, or the friend who seems certain about themselves. Each comparison chips away at a quiet place inside. Their own progress stops feeling real. Even a good day sours after a quick scroll. They tell themselves it’s motivation. It isn’t. It’s a habit that steals joy and passes it off as focus.
Grabbing blame too fast
Something goes wrong and the blame is already in their hand. They didn’t check the file. They should’ve reminded everyone. They must have missed a signal. Owning mistakes can be healthy. Owning all of them isn’t. People get used to it and stop looking for the real cause. The pattern grows until guilt feels like home.
Using humor as a shield
They make the joke before anyone else can. The punchline is always them. It plays well in rooms that love easy laughs. No one asks follow-ups when the mood stays light. Later, the line echoes while they brush their teeth. It wasn’t harmless. It was a small cut delivered with a smile. Those add up.
Saying yes while wanting no
They agree to favors that wreck the week. They join plans when they need sleep. The word no sits at the edge of their tongue and doesn’t jump. People think they’re flexible. Inside, they feel pulled thin. When the calendar finally clears, they’re annoyed at the people who asked and annoyed at themselves for accepting.
Never feeling quite enough
Even on calm days, a small doubt keeps humming in the background. Achievements don’t stick and praise fades fast. They look for the next task to outrun the feeling. And it follows anyway. Some evenings, they sit at the edge of the bed and wonder why good news never fills the room the way it should. But the answer never arrives.