How to Regain Your Initiative: Why You Must Please Yourself First

To truly understand the cost of living for others, we have to look deeper at the "middle game" of life—that chaotic period where responsibilities pile up and our initial goals are tested. When we prioritize the approval of others, we don't just lose a single game; we develop a "style" of play that is fundamentally broken.

Here are further examples of how the "Approval Gambit" manifests and how to pivot toward a strategy of self-loyalty.

The "Blunder" of False Harmony

In chess, players often fear "creating a weakness." They might avoid moving a pawn because it leaves a hole in their defense, even if that move is necessary to win. In life, this translates to conflict avoidance.

Imagine a person who hates their current career path but stays in it because their parents are proud of their "stable" title. This is like a player who refuses to castle because they don't want to disturb the original arrangement of their pieces. They are keeping a "pretty" board for the spectators while their King is being suffocated in the center.

• The Cost: By trying to maintain a false sense of harmony for your parents or peers, you commit a slow-motion blunder. You are effectively playing without your Rooks—your power and drive—because they are trapped behind the walls of someone else's expectations.

• The Pivot: Pleasing yourself means "castling" into the life you actually want. It might look messy to the observers for a few turns, and they might complain that the board looks "different" now, but your King is finally safe.

The "Over-Extended" Defense

We often feel a sense of guilt when we aren't "doing enough" for everyone around us. In chess, this is known as over-extension. This happens when you push your pawns too far across the board to attack or control space, leaving your own backyard wide open and vulnerable.

Consider the "Yes-Man" at the office. They take on every extra project, organize every birthday lunch, and stay late to help a colleague with their workload—all because they crave the "Good Job" or the "We couldn't do it without you."

• The Cost: This player has no "back-rank" protection. While they are busy pleasing everyone else, their own health, personal projects, and family time are being picked off by the opponent (burnout). They are giving from a place of deficit, not abundance.

• The Pivot: To please yourself first is to recognize your material limits. A Grandmaster knows they only have 16 pieces. They don't try to cover every single square on the board. They choose the squares that matter. When you say "no" to a project that doesn't align with your goals, you aren't being mean; you are protecting your material so you can win your own game.

Trading Your "Active Pieces" for "Dead Weight"

One of the most common mistakes in chess is trading an "active" piece (one that is doing a lot of work) for a "passive" piece (one that is stuck in a corner). We do this in life whenever we trade our joy for acceptance.

Think of the friend who suppresses their unique, eccentric personality to fit into a conservative social circle. Their humor, their passion for niche hobbies, and their bold ideas are "active pieces." By silencing them to "fit in," they are trading a powerful Bishop for a blocked-in Knight.

• The Cost: Eventually, the game becomes boring. When you trade away what makes you "active" just to be accepted by "passive" people, you lose the ability to create dynamic wins. You become a background character in your own tournament.

• The Pivot: A conscious player values their pieces based on their own internal engine. If you love a "weird" hobby or a "risky" dream, that piece is your most valuable asset. Keep it on the board. The right people—the ones who truly enjoy the game of life—will be fascinated by your strategy, not offended by it.

The Beauty of the "Solo" Study

Every great chess player spends hours in "solitary study." They don't do this to impress a coach; they do it because they love the logic of the game. They find joy in the discovery.

When you please yourself first, you are engaging in this kind of solo study with your own soul. You are asking: "What move feels right to me, even if no one ever sees the score sheet?" When you give to others from this state, it is a Master’s Gift. It is the difference between a beggar giving away their last crumb out of fear, and a King sharing his feast out of genuine hospitality.