Stop Waiting For People to Change

Why Some People Would Rather Die Than Change -- and What to Do About It

Dear Permission to be Powerful Reader,

It’s uncomfortable to admit, but most people never change meaningfully.

Sure, they might tweak a behavior or two—leave the toilet seat down, remember your birthday, or cut back on late-night snacking.

But those surface-level adjustments aren’t real change. They don’t rewrite the underlying story that defines who they are.

Real change—shifting someone’s identity, core beliefs, and emotional wiring—requires facing profound, uncomfortable truths. It demands questioning the very foundation of who you think you are.

And let’s be honest—that scares the hell out of most people.

We build entire lives around avoiding this kind of work.

From childhood, we learn survival strategies. We figure out what keeps us safe, what earns us approval, and what helps us feel loved—or at least tolerated. Then, we double down on those strategies until they harden into habits.

By the time we’re adults, these habits have become our identity.

• The nice guy who never says no.

• The overachiever who can’t stop proving herself.

• The tough guy who’s allergic to vulnerability.

• The martyr who sacrifices everything and wonders why no one else does the same.

We wear these roles like armor. Even when they stop working and start actively hurting us, we cling to them because letting go feels like death.

Most People Never Stress-Test Their Identity.

We all like to think we’re open-minded. Flexible. Evolving.

But have you ever tested that?

Have you ever had someone challenge your political beliefs, faith, or morals and genuinely listen instead of defending yourself?

Have you ever admitted that something you’ve believed your whole life might be wrong?

Most people don’t. Most people can’t because questioning yourself feels like stepping into quicksand.

It’s terrifying.

So we avoid it.

We surround ourselves with people who think like us, seek opinions that reinforce our beliefs, and reject anything that makes us uncomfortable.

We’re not changing. We’re doubling down.

You Can’t Change People. Period.

I wasted so much of my life believing I could change people.

I thought if I loved them enough… if I supported them enough… if I bent over backward and set myself on fire to keep them warm… they’d finally see me. Finally, they’d love me back the way I needed them to.

I tried it with my ex-wife.

She was controlling, manipulative, and unwilling to meet me halfway. And I stayed. I kept believing that if I just tried harder and sacrificed more, she’d soften.

She didn’t.

Because she didn’t want to.

I had changed so much of myself to accommodate her that I barely recognized who I was anymore. And still, she wouldn’t budge.

The truth?

I didn’t want her to change.

I wanted a different wife.

But instead of facing that truth, I spent years hoping she’d become someone she wasn’t.

The Only Person You Can Change Is You.

When I finally admitted to myself—and her—that I didn’t want to be in the relationship anymore, it was like waking up from a coma.

For the first time, I saw her.

She wasn’t the villain. She wasn’t evil. She was just… her.

And I didn’t want that.

Not because she was broken. But because we weren’t a fit.

I had spent years abandoning myself, hoping she’d change and calling it love.

But real love doesn’t require you to betray yourself.

Are You Making This Mistake Too?

Be honest—are you in a relationship secretly hoping the other person will change?

Are you excusing behavior you know you shouldn’t?

Are you ignoring red flags because you think “it’ll get better”?

Are you waiting for them to wake up one day and suddenly become the person you need?

Here’s the truth:

People don’t change because you want them to.

They change when they want to.

And even then? Most don’t.

So What Can You Do?

You stop waiting.

You stop chasing.

You stop hoping for a miracle that isn’t coming.

And you ask yourself the fundamental question:

Can I live with this?

Not can I fix it? Not can I tolerate it for now?

Can I live with this—exactly as it is—for the rest of my life?

If the answer is no, you know what to do.

Stop Sending the Wrong Message.

When you stay with someone who doesn’t treat you well… when you let disrespect slide… when you keep showing up for someone who takes you for granted…

You’re teaching them that it’s okay.

You’re telling them, this is acceptable.

That’s not love.

That’s self-abandonment.

What Does Real Change Look Like?

Real change doesn’t come from wishing and hoping. It comes from drawing a line, from saying, “This is what I need, and I won’t settle for less.”

Real change happens when you finally see yourself as worthy of respect, love, and reciprocity.

Because the truth is, change isn’t hard.

What’s hard is choosing it.

Walking away from what’s comfortable—even when it’s killing you.

Facing the unknown—even when it’s terrifying.

Believing you deserve more—even when no one else has ever treated you that way.

Let Go of Who They Could Be.

This might be the hardest part.

You have to let go of the version of them you built in your head—the person they could be if they tried harder, loved you more, or just “got it.”

You have to mourn that fantasy.

Because it’s not real.

And if you keep clinging to it, you’ll miss out on the genuine relationships. The ones where you don’t have to shrink, beg, or explain your worth.

Here’s what nobody tells you:

Letting go of someone you love—even if they’re hurting you—feels like self-betrayal at first.

You’ll doubt yourself.
You’ll think maybe you’re giving up too soon.
You’ll spin in circles wondering if you’re being too harsh, too unforgiving, too “trauma-informed” for your own good.

But here’s the truth:

You’re not abandoning them.
You’re finally choosing not to abandon yourself.

And that kind of decision—the one where you say “enough”—is the true start of transformation.

I didn’t get there overnight.

For a long time, I stayed trapped in relationships that drained me.

I told myself they weren’t “that bad.”
I clung to crumbs of affection like they were gourmet meals.
I performed love instead of receiving it.

And because I was so used to contorting myself to make other people comfortable, I couldn’t even recognize how much I was suffering.

I normalized mistreatment.

I spiritualized neglect.

I called it “unconditional love.”

But real love has conditions.
Real love respects limits.
Real love doesn’t thrive in environments where you’re constantly shrinking just to keep the peace.

Don’t Confuse Loyalty With Self-Destruction

Some of us were raised to believe that staying—no matter what—is the highest virtue.

We were told that leaving is failure.
That boundaries are rejection.
That protecting your peace is selfish.

But that’s not loyalty. That’s fear in disguise.

There’s a difference between being devoted and being devoured.

And too many of us learned to stick around long after our spirits left the building.

Why?

Because we were afraid to be alone.
Because we didn’t want to be “the bad guy.”
Because we thought pain was proof of love.

But you know what takes more courage than staying?

Leaving with dignity.

Not because they’re evil. Not because you’re perfect.
But because you’ve finally accepted this truth:

You are no longer available for pain disguised as love.

The Audacity to Choose Yourself

You’ll get pushback when you start choosing yourself.

People will say you’ve changed.
They’ll call you selfish. Cold. Dramatic.
They’ll say you’re the problem now.

But they’re not mad because you hurt them.
They’re mad because they can’t use you anymore.

Let that sink in.

When you stop bending over backward for people who never return the favor, they will lash out—not because you did something wrong, but because they lost access to your energy.

The truth?

People who benefit from your silence will always see your voice as a threat.

But keep speaking.

Speak with your actions.
With your boundaries.
With your absence.

Sometimes walking away is the loudest love letter you’ll ever write to yourself.

You Have to Break the Cycle

Maybe you grew up in a house where love was conditional.

Where approval came when you performed.
Where emotions were inconvenient.
Where love meant pleasing everyone but yourself.

And without realizing it, you started re-creating that same emotional dynamic in adulthood—over and over again.

Different faces, same feeling.

You didn’t choose this cycle consciously.
But healing from it is your responsibility now.

No one is coming to rescue you.
And that’s not a tragedy—it’s an opportunity.

Because once you realize that the key isn’t in someone else’s pocket, you stop waiting.

You stop begging.

You start building.

Your standards rise.
Your relationships shift.
Your nervous system slowly learns how to feel safe again.

Not through chaos.

But through calm.

Real Healing is Quiet

You don’t need to announce your glow-up.
You don’t need to post about cutting toxic people off.

Real healing isn’t loud.
It’s subtle. Intimate. Unshakable.

It’s the moment you stop checking your phone, hoping they text.
It’s when you realize you don’t want them back—you want yourself back.
It’s when you finally stop asking, “Why don’t they love me the way I need?” and start asking, “Why did I tolerate that for so long?”

That’s when the gears shift.

That’s when the healing deepens.

That’s when the real you—the one buried under years of people-pleasing and performance—starts to emerge.

Not as a better version.

As the truest one.

The Fantasy Is What Hurts

It took me years to realize…

It wasn’t the person I missed.
It was the fantasy.

The fantasy that they could love me the way I imagined.
The fantasy that if I just did enough, they’d transform.
The fantasy that we were meant to be.

But you can’t build a life on a fantasy.

You can’t keep feeding someone’s potential while starving your own.

At some point, you have to put the fairytale down and pick up your self-respect.

It doesn’t mean the love wasn’t real.

It means your healing matters more.

And you don’t owe anyone an explanation for that.

There’s No Rescue Mission

Let this sink in deeply:

You don’t have to rescue people from themselves.

You don’t have to fix their childhood.
You don’t have to play therapist.
You don’t have to be their emotional rehab center.

You’re allowed to say, “I love you… and I’m leaving.”

You’re allowed to want a partner, not a project.

You’re allowed to want peace over potential.

They don’t have to be bad for the relationship to be wrong.

That’s a grown-up realization.

One that frees both of you.

What Happens When You Do the Work?

When you finally stop trying to change others and start choosing yourself, life rearranges around your clarity.

You start attracting different kinds of people—ones who meet you, not deplete you.

You stop tolerating chaos and start cultivating peace.

You stop performing for love and start receiving it.

Because when you embody the truth that you are enough—without shape-shifting, without sacrificing, without begging—you send a signal to the world:

I am no longer available for anything that costs me my dignity.

And the world listens.

The ones who can’t meet you will fade.
The ones who can will find you.

But only when you stop chasing ghosts.

So Let This Be the Moment

Let this be the letter that wakes something up in you.

Let it be the quiet revolution you start today—not with fire, but with clarity.

You don’t need to be louder.
You need to be more honest.

You don’t need to become someone new.
You need to come home to who you really are.

You are not too sensitive.
You are not too much.
You are not impossible to love.

You just haven’t been seen clearly yet—mostly by yourself.

Start there.

Because once you see your own value, you’ll stop offering it to people who can’t recognize it.

And that… is when everything begins to change.

Until next time,

Dancer, Writer, Buddhist