The Eulogy I wrote Myself: A People Pleaser’s Reflection of a Life Half Lived
Have you ever worried that, when you die, no one will come to your funeral? Or have you been haunted by the thought of an empty funeral home, wondering if anyone even cared about you?
If you’re a people pleaser, this fear might be all too familiar.
I used to be tormented by this very dream. Despite helping others endlessly, I felt my efforts failed to make a lasting impact on their hearts. I once dreamed I was attending my own funeral, and someone was giving a eulogy that felt more like a generic script than a true tribute.
It was as if a machine had written it with a prompt like: “ChatGPT, I need a eulogy for a lifelong people pleaser with a husband and two kids.” It sounded a lot like this:
Today, we gather to celebrate the life of a truly remarkable woman whose presence touched us all in profound ways. [Her Name] epitomized kindness and generosity, always going above and beyond to make others feel valued. Her warm smile and thoughtful gestures showed her incredible gift for making others feel special and loved. Her selflessness and compassion were truly inspiring.
As a devoted wife and mother, [Her Name] poured her heart into her family. Her love for [Husband’s Name] and their children was evident in everything she did. From family gatherings to daily support, she was the cornerstone of their lives. Her dedication was matched only by her desire to bring joy and happiness to her loved ones.
Though we mourn her loss, we also celebrate the legacy she leaves behind. [Her Name]’s life reminds us of the power of kindness and the difference one person can make. As we remember her, let’s honor her memory by embodying the warmth and love she shared with us. May her legacy inspire us to live with grace and compassion.
It could have been anyone! It certainly didn’t catch my essence, it felt disconnected from my true self.
So, I decided to write my own eulogy—and found it even more unsettling:
We are gathered here to celebrate the life of Michele Hoover. Known by many as someone who loved to help people, I would call her a people pleaser.
Michele had many talents and gifts that she kept hidden, fearing judgment and abandonment. She couldn’t separate her worth from her artistic expression, so she kept her talents buried.
Plagued by feelings of inadequacy, she worked herself to burnout, striving for productivity and perfection. Even burnout didn’t quell her need for approval, which drove her to seek validation from her father and husband, often leading to martyrdom. She never asked herself what she truly needed.
Michele felt she had a greater impact to make, but fear kept her from stepping out of her comfort zone. Her hidden talents came with a cost—she lived over a decade with chronic illness, stifling her joy to avoid overwhelming others.
Resigning herself to the role of “just a mom,” some say she died from the grief of a life unlived. Her passions for reading, writing, paddleboarding, sailing, diving, horseback riding, travel, singing, songwriting, and dance remained unfulfilled. She was also deeply passionate about ocean conservation, animal rescue, veterans’ rights, and ending childhood illiteracy.
In lieu of cards, the family asks that you live a life on your own terms. Let her story be a reminder: live each day with joy and courage. Chase your dreams and see failures as stepping stones to success.
Michele’s bucket list remains unchecked but is available as an opt-in for a mailing list she never started. She is survived by her two children and husband, who will need to find a nanny to help with the chores.
If you’ve spent a lifetime living for others and found these eulogies resonant, the good news is: it’s not too late to change.
Grab a copy of my “ABC Guide to Stop People Pleasing” and start living a life worth writing about.