Harlots and People-pleasers

Nothing written here is meant to vilify sex workers or people pleasers. This letter is a mirror, not a gavel. It’s a reflection of what I’ve seen in myself and others, the subtle negotiations we make to be loved, accepted, safe. The way we adjust our tone and stretch past our limits just to be chosen. It’s not sex, but it is a kind of harlotry. A behavioural seduction. A soul-trade that’s not for money, but for survival. And the price we pay, quietly and daily, is ourselves.

For the sake of simplicity, I use “she” when referring to the harlot and the people-pleaser. This metaphor speaks to a pattern, not a gender.

The Invisible Harlot

There’s an uncomfortable overlap between harlots and people-pleasers that we often overlook. On the surface, harlots and people pleasers couldn’t be more different. One is distrusted, seen as manipulative, transactional, even dangerous. The other is seen as sweet, humble, and endlessly accommodating. One is called a harlot. The other is called a “good person.” But if you look closely, the currency isn’t all that different. One trades intimacy for material gain, the other trades compliance for approval. In both cases, you give parts of yourself away, sometimes the body, sometimes your boundaries, to meet someone else’s needs. You perform, suppress, tolerate, and often walk away feeling empty. This emptiness doesn’t end there.

1. You develop chronic tension in your back and gut

2. You start experiencing anxiety spikes and emotional burnout from constantly trying to prove your worth.

3. You attract emotionally lazy people who grow dependent on your over-functioning, and you end up stuck in one-sided caretaker dynamics.

The harlot may be shamed for what she does, but at least she holds no illusions. She knows it’s a transaction. The people pleaser hides behind smiles and virtue. This isn’t about moralising either path but about naming the invisible harlotry so many of us participate in, unpaid, unspoken, and quietly eroding who we really are. So what does this quiet kind of soul-trade actually look like?

1. Sensory Appeasement

   This is where you allow people into your sensory space without consent. You tolerate touch, eye contact, or even conversation past your capacity. You remain open longer than you wish to be, hoping they will like you more. You could be hugging someone because they expect it, even when it makes your skin crawl. Laughing when you feel disrespected is another. Using your body to make others feel okay, even when it costs you your peace. I hope you see where this is going.
   

2. Performative Warmth

   This is emotional seduction: being soothing, nurturing, or “safe” to people who haven’t earned access to that part of you. You override disgust, boundary, even the inner alarm that says “this isn’t right,” all to stay likeable. You might find yourself responding flirtatiously to attention you don’t want, or holding emotional space for someone who’s trauma-dumping or sexualizing you, because you “don’t want to make it awkward.”

3. Hyperavailability/Auto-yes Reflex

   This is the instinct to say yes before you even know how you feel. You jump in to help before anyone even asks. Anticipating needs like it's your job, you become everyone’s emotional first responder. The problem with being hyperavailable is that people can subconsciously sense that they can extract from you with no consequence. Dangerous for your well-being in every way.

There are so many other ways this invisible harlotry shows up. People pleasing is a black hole. It consumes your energy but never fills you. No amount of “thank yous” or “you’re so sweet” will heal the wound that created the need for them in the first place. External approval can’t anchor your internal truth.

You might say, “I’m just being a good person.” “I can’t just start saying no to everyone.”

I’m not here to tell you to stop being a people pleaser. I know what it costs. I know the ache of living in a body trained to anticipate others without prioritising its own needs. The years of defaulting to yes before your mind even catches up. This isn’t about blame. It’s about compassion. Because here’s the truth: some yeses are tied to survival. Your mind had very good reasons for developing these very people-pleasing tendencies to protect you from someone or something in your past. We all wear masks for various reasons. We all perform sometimes.

This world is a massive marketplace, and everyone is a harlot for something: approval, power, security, belonging. The people pleaser is no different. However, the danger arises when performance becomes a substitute for personality. When the pleasing fuses so tightly to your identity, you forget there was ever a self underneath it.

I am not shaming the behaviour. I am asking you to care for yourself inside it. Because people-pleasing isn’t just a habit. It’s a lifelong tendency many of us will revisit over and over again. It’s a deed that must be done sometimes. But like the harlot, you can learn how to recover, protect, and tend to yourself afterwards.

Lessons from the Harlot’s Book

Harlots often understand energetic contracts better than people pleasers. They don’t pretend the exchange isn’t happening. They navigate it and they recover afterwards. People pleasing, by contrast, is deeply rooted in dissociation from the self. I see it as a survival strategy, not a flaw. I’ve included this part not to change your core, but to meet you where you are and teach you how to care for yourself in the aftermath. It’s about navigating self-care and self-prioritisation even when the old habits resurface. You may still say yes sometimes when you mean no. Rather than guilt yourself and spiral into self-hatred, you will know how to recover, recalibrate, and refill your cup after the deed is done.

1. Set the rate before the deed

Harlots don’t “see how it goes.” They set the price before any intimacy happens. People pleasers give access first, then pray for respect or reciprocity.

Action: Before agreeing to anything (favour, call, support), ask yourself:

• “What’s my desired outcome here?”

• “What’s the energetic or emotional cost?”

• “Is this mutually beneficial or a one-sided drain?”

2. Don’t stay longer than paid for

A harlot doesn’t hang out afterwards hoping the client will affirm her value. She leaves when the time is up. People pleasers linger, hoping for praise, reassurance, or closeness.

Action: Practice graceful exits.

• End calls, convos, or favours on time, even if it feels awkward. Have scripts on your phone if needed: “I have to run. Talk soon.” I find scripts are incredibly helpful if you are prone to going into a freeze in the heat of the moment.

  If you find yourself drained after conversations, stuck in cycles of guilt or emotional obligation, you can download this free guide. It includes 10 scripts you can use + boundaries to help you exit clean and protect your energy.

3. Separate the performance from your identity

Harlots may roleplay, seduce, submit, but they know it’s a persona, not the full self. People pleasers get lost in the performance and forget they can take it off.

Action: Ask yourself, “Was that me or my survival role?”

• After intense social moments, do a quick debrief on a notes app or in a journal: What felt fake to me? What felt like the real me? What drained me? What energised me?

4. Cleanse after giving access

Harlots do aftercare. People pleasers collapse. The difference is intentional energy reset.

Action: Pick one quick post-deed ritual to reclaim yourself:

• Stretch and shake out the body for 60 seconds

• Rinse hands or take a shower

• Sit in silence for 3 minutes before re-entering your day

You will find a video guide resource + other free energy protocols to help you reset and return to yourself here.

5. Don’t expect emotional intimacy from a transactional moment

The harlot understands that being useful isn’t the same as being valued. She doesn’t pretend that a transaction is a connection. People pleasers give hoping to be chosen in return. This is what creates the heartbreak and resentment.

Action: Before giving, think: “Am I expecting emotional payoff here?”

• If yes, pause. Renegotiate with yourself first. “If they never validate this, say thank you or acknowledge it in any way, would I still feel good doing it?”

6. Have a non-negotiable off-switch

Harlots know when the door is closed. People pleasers stay open 24/7, emotionally and energetically.

Action: Design your “closing ritual” for the day:

• Turn off message notifications by X PM

• Create a phrase that signals you’re done: “I’m off-duty now”

• Light a candle, stretch, or change clothes to mark the shift

Learning to care for others without abandoning yourself in the process is a lifelong commitment that requires intention. What do you reclaim when you stop harloting for free?

What You Begin to Reclaim

1. You begin to build relationships rooted in reciprocity, not silent martyrdom

2. You become loved for who you are, not who you perform as

3. You bloom because you invest in relationships, opportunities, and ideas that don’t drain you but feed you

4. You start having actual energy reserves, not adrenaline spikes

Imagine that your peace doesn’t depend on how well you manage everyone else’s moods. What would it be like to be able to say no without offering a performance of guilt? What would it feel like to have a full presence that is not from overextending, but from being relaxed and boundaried? To be chosen without begging or jumping through a thousand hoops. You don’t owe anyone your nervous system to prove you're good. This is what it feels like to stop harloting for free and to start coming home to yourself.

A note on Forgiveness

You may look back and ache for all the moments you abandoned yourself. The “yeses” you didn’t mean and the masks you wore so well that you forgot the self. Forgive that version of you that did not know another way to survive.

Offer grace to the part of you that feels shame for shaping herself into what was needed. The harlot does what she must in a world that does not care. But she deserves softness. She deserves to go home.

This isn’t about regret. It’s about return. To the body. To the voice. To the self that was not lost but buried beneath all the performance. You can stop now. You can come back to yourself. And you can choose again.

Until next time.

Jumi.