books

'The guilt of doing something wrong was debilitating.' Overcoming the 'good-girl' complex.

When I was a ten-year-old in Year 5 at school, my peers gave me one of my very first nicknames. I remember it clearly – I was labelled the ‘goody-goody’. It was such an identifier put upon me (mostly by the boys in my class) that I even remember using the phrase as my password for my first-ever email address (jolly-hollie, for those of you curious. Give me a break – I was ten).

It didn’t really sting and, as far as juvenile nicknames went, I knew it could have been worse. I also knew I was the good girl – I never stepped a foot wrong, my teachers loved me and I excelled in my studies. Being good activated an innate sense of worth within me.

It was how I saw myself in the world. But, even bigger than that, it was how I felt safe in the world. To be good meant recognition. It meant praise and validation. It meant achievement. It meant love.

While you're here, watch How To Be A Woman in 2023. Story continues after video.


Video via Mamamia

I was okay with being the goody-goody because that was the way I was raised. Perhaps it came with being the eldest child, or maybe the outcome of a fairly tumultuous family life where I decided to play the role of peacekeeper and, often, parent to my younger siblings. 

ADVERTISEMENT

All I know is that this innate good-girl complex was how I kept safe. I rarely, if ever, stepped a foot wrong – at home or at school. If I ever was to get in trouble, the guilt of doing something wrong was debilitating. I would carry it with me for days and it was the source of many a panic attack. So, I avoided being ‘bad’ and I played by the rules because I believed the rules were there to protect me. Perhaps you can relate to this in your own way. Maybe you’re reading this and identifying as the ‘good’ daughter. The ‘good’ student. The ‘good’ friend. The ‘good’ mum. 

Being the ‘good’ girl.

The weight of the word ‘good’ stems right back to when we were babies fresh out of the womb. Phrases such as, ‘Is she a good girl?’ and ‘What a good boy sleeping well for Mum and Dad!’, and even using ‘good’ as a descriptor to brush aside pain, emotion or frustration points we experienced as a child (when we are our most impressionable), have a deeply ingrained effect on our psyche. We start to associate ‘good’ with reward, praise and being loveable and accepted by others.

The opposite of good? Bad. And being ‘bad’ – while subjective – has also been ingrained in us in a similar way growing up. We are deemed ‘bad’ when we turn our heads when offered a kiss from a family member – being encouraged to be ‘polite’ rather than ‘rude’, and accept the physical affection even when we really don’t want it. ‘That’s a good girl.’ Through mirroring our own parents’ definitions of what is good and bad, we start to embody behaviours that prioritise the wellbeing of others – their feelings, values and expectations – over our own. Because being good = being loved. And being bad = guilt.

ADVERTISEMENT


It was only in my late twenties that I started to slowly break up with the good-girl complex I’d been carting along my entire life. Expectations placed on me from family members – minute as they may seem, like always answering a phone call even if I didn’t have the energy, time or space to – started to fall away. 

ADVERTISEMENT

I was still a loveable, worthy and kind person in asserting boundaries (in this case, only answering calls when I had the energy and space). But when we start to challenge an identity role we have played along with for some time, rather than acceptance for this ‘new’ version of ourselves, we often receive backlash. Anger and frustration are rife from loved ones. We’re told, ‘You’ve changed.’ Because, well, we have. But not in the negative way that is suggested in these moments.

We train people how to behave with us. It really is that simple. If we are hyper available at all costs, then that is what is expected of us – to always answer the call, reply instantly to the text or be available in the DMs. If we never say no to anything, then of course others will expect that we are the yes gal. If we allow people to mistreat us – through their words or behaviours – without any level of standing up for ourselves, then it will continue.

The challenge here is that the good-girl complex can be so deeply ingrained in us that to live another way feels terrifying. We become convinced we are unlovable, even when asserting very simple, justifiable boundaries or a no that really should just seem commonplace. 

Listen: On Fill My Cup, psychologist Chris Cheers addresses how caring for others impacts our own happiness. Post continues below.

Asserting boundaries.

When I was a child, asserting boundaries with the adults in my life was near impossible. I would tread very carefully, not wanting to step a foot wrong, argue back or share the times I disagreed with certain beliefs or behaviours because that meant I would get into trouble and I wasn’t being ‘respectful’. I’d experience yelling, gaslighting or name-calling. None of that feels good, particularly to a young and impressionable girl, so it was much easier for me to just keep my mouth shut – to agree, even when every fibre of my soul was screaming, ‘This is wrong! This isn’t okay!’ I trained myself to swallow my truth, my values and my worth. Because I was the ‘good girl’.

ADVERTISEMENT

There are still parts of the good girl in me that run rife. I haven’t fully left her behind yet. And you know what, I probably never will. I value ‘good’ qualities in a person such as kindness, compassion and open-heartedness. For me, I recognise that things need to shift when playing the ‘good girl’ role comes at a cost to my own values and sense of alignment. But does that mean I shift gears straight into ‘bad girl’ territory? Absolutely not. This isn’t about becoming the opposite of good. This is about redefining how you show up, labels aside. And this is where our boundaries come in.

ADVERTISEMENT


When I first started to explore boundaries, I felt incredibly uncomfortable. I assumed that asserting boundaries meant I would be considered selfish, egotistical and perhaps even a bitch. These were all stories I had cultivated through years of having no boundaries. We see this playing out – especially with women – in the public eye, too. If she dare have an opposing view to the mainstream narrative, if she dare speak her mind, if she dare not smile because she’s having a rough day, then she is labelled the troublemaker, the attention-seeker, the drama queen, the bitch. Not very nice labels to carry, are they? Good girl, nice girl and happy girl are much lighter labels to bear.

However, what I’ve come to learn in my own reclamation of boundaries is that you can still be kind, compassionate and loving, while teaching people the ways in which you wish to be treated. And in doing this, you actually allow yourself to give more kindness, love and compassion.

ADVERTISEMENT

Anger’s role in boundaries.

Recently, I booked a last-minute session with a kinesiologist to help me process some anger that had arisen after having conflict with a family member. I was proud of myself because I had finally asserted a boundary with them (‘If you continue to speak to me in that way, do not contact me again’), however, rather than feeling lighter for it, I felt simmering rage. I was experiencing anger that I did not know how to move on my own. In this session, I was told that anger often arises when our boundaries have been crossed. My mind was blown. I repeat: anger arises when a boundary has been crossed.

I thought back to any time I have felt anger towards a friend or loved one in my life. And lo and behold, every moment the anger pointed to an overstepped boundary. The trouble with this was that – for the most part – I hadn’t made my boundaries clear to the people in question. So while, yes, I was being mistreated in some ways, it actually wasn’t on them. It was on me for not having asserted the boundary.

When it comes to relationships, I see anger as a gift because I know it points to a crossed boundary. And with that knowledge, we can start to assert our boundaries. But before we do this, it’s important we identify the stories we’re carrying with us that make us resistant to creating them in the first place. I feel this is often the missing link in creating boundaries that stick. Because we can only assert them, truly, when we feel confident and empowered in doing so.

ADVERTISEMENT

This is an edited extract from The People Pleaser’s Guide to Putting Yourself First by Hollie Azzopardi, RRP $32.99, published by Affirm Press. Out now! 

The People Pleaser's Guide to Putting Yourself First by Hollie Azzopardi (Affirm Press).

Feature Image: Supplied.

Love watching TV and movies? Take our survey now to go in the running to win a $100 gift voucher.