I AM WHO I AM: If You Need to Change Me to Love Me, Walk Away

 

I AM WHO I AM

If You Need to Change Me to Love Me, Walk Away

Introduction

I am who I am.

Read that again.

I am who I am.

I am not a project. I am not a broken piece of furniture waiting for someone to sand me down, repaint me, and place me in the corner of their life where I match their décor. I am not a rough draft waiting for another human being to pick up a red pen and begin making corrections. I am not clay placed in someone's hands so they can mold me into their personal vision of who they believe I should become.

I am who I am.

Does that mean I am perfect?

Absolutely not.

Does it mean I have nothing to learn?

Of course not.

Does it mean I should never grow, mature, listen, compromise, apologize, or make changes in my life?

No.

Growth is part of living. Maturity is part of aging. Wisdom is often born from mistakes. There are things about myself that I have changed over the years because I decided they needed to change. There are behaviors I have examined. There are mistakes I have acknowledged. There are lessons I have learned the hard way. I hope I continue learning until the day I take my final breath.

But there is an enormous difference between choosing to grow and being forced to become someone else.

There is a difference between someone encouraging you and someone controlling you.

There is a difference between someone loving you enough to tell you the truth and someone constantly telling you that who you are is not good enough.

There is a difference between compromise and surrender.

There is a difference between adjusting a behavior and erasing your identity.

Somewhere in this world today, a person is sitting quietly wondering what happened to them.

They used to laugh louder.

They used to speak freely.

They used to have opinions.

They used to have friends.

They used to enjoy hobbies.

They used to wear what they liked.

They used to go places they enjoyed.

They used to dream.

They used to feel comfortable in their own skin.

Then someone entered their life and slowly, carefully, and perhaps even methodically began changing them.

A comment here.

A criticism there.

A disapproving look.

A sarcastic remark.

A threat to leave.

A cold shoulder.

A period of silence.

An accusation.

A comparison.

A demand.

A little emotional pressure.

A little intimidation.

A little bullying.

And slowly, almost invisibly, that person began disappearing.

This article is for that person.

It is also for the person doing the changing.

If you look at the person beside you and constantly think, If only they were different, perhaps you need to ask yourself a difficult question.

Why are you there?

If you cannot accept who someone fundamentally is, stop trying to rebuild them into the person living inside your imagination.

Walk away.

And if someone is systematically dismantling who you are in an effort to create the person they want you to become, perhaps you need to ask yourself an equally difficult question.

Why are you staying?

I am who I am.

And sometimes the healthiest words we will ever say are these:

If who I am is not enough for you, walk away.

The Person You Met Was the Person Standing in Front of You

One of the strangest things we do in relationships is meet someone, learn who they are, observe how they live, understand their personality, and then decide to enter into a relationship with them only to immediately begin trying to change them.

Think about that.

You met an outgoing person and now you want them to be quiet.

You met an independent person and now you want them to be dependent upon you.

You met someone who loves people and now you are angry because they enjoy being around people.

You met someone who is driven and now you complain that they work too hard.

You met someone who loves golf, fishing, painting, writing, gardening, traveling, exercising, or spending time with friends and now you want them to stop doing the very things they loved before they ever met you.

You met someone with opinions and now you want silence.

You met someone with confidence and now you call it arrogance.

You met someone who speaks directly and now you demand that they carefully measure every word so you are never uncomfortable.

You met someone who laughs loudly and now you tell them they are embarrassing.

You met someone who dreamed big and now you tell them to be realistic.

Why?

Why do we do this to people?

Sometimes we fall in love with the idea of a person rather than the actual person.

We see their potential through our eyes.

We create an imaginary version of them in our mind.

We begin thinking about how wonderful everything would be if they would just change a few things.

Then a few things become a few more things.

Before long, we are no longer loving the person standing in front of us. We are loving a fictional character we have created and becoming angry because the real person refuses to play the role.

That is not love.

Love does not require someone to audition every morning for the privilege of remaining in your life.

Encouragement Is Not Control

There will be people reading this who immediately say, "But shouldn't we help the people we love become better?"

Yes.

Absolutely.

But understand the difference between encouragement and control.

Encouragement says, "I believe in you."

Control says, "You need to become what I believe you should be."

Encouragement says, "How can I support you?"

Control says, "Do what I tell you."

Encouragement respects your decisions.

Control punishes you for making decisions it does not approve of.

Encouragement allows disagreement.

Control demands compliance.

Encouragement strengthens your voice.

Control slowly silences it.

Encouragement helps you become more of yourself.

Control attempts to turn you into someone else.

The distinction is incredibly important because control rarely introduces itself by saying, "Hello. I am here to destroy your identity."

It often arrives disguised as concern.

"I'm only telling you this because I love you."

"I'm trying to help you."

"You would be so much better if you would listen to me."

"Why can't you just do this one thing for me?"

"If you really loved me, you would change."

"Everyone agrees with me."

"You're the problem."

"You always do this."

"You never listen."

"Maybe I should just leave."

Over time, these statements can begin to reshape a person's perception of themselves.

They begin questioning their judgment.

They begin apologizing when they have done nothing wrong.

They begin asking permission for things they once freely decided.

They begin carefully monitoring their words.

They begin reading facial expressions.

They begin listening to tones of voice.

They begin anticipating reactions.

They begin managing another person's emotions.

And somewhere in that exhausting process, they lose contact with themselves.

The Slow Disappearance of Self

Losing yourself usually does not happen in a single dramatic moment.

It happens one concession at a time.

You stop calling a friend because it creates an argument.

You stop wearing something because someone makes a comment.

You stop sharing an opinion because you know it will become a three hour discussion.

You stop going somewhere because the emotional consequences are not worth it.

You stop laughing at something because you are told it is inappropriate.

You stop talking about your dreams because someone dismisses them.

You stop defending yourself because defending yourself only makes the situation worse.

Eventually, silence becomes easier.

Compliance becomes easier.

Isolation becomes easier.

And that is when something dangerous begins to happen inside the human spirit.

We become disconnected from ourselves.

We wake up one morning and look in the mirror and no longer recognize the person looking back at us.

Where did I go?

What happened to me?

Why am I so unhappy?

Why do I feel alone when someone is sitting three feet away?

Why am I anxious?

Why am I constantly on edge?

Why do I feel as though I am walking through an emotional minefield?

Why do I feel empty?

Perhaps it is because you have spent so much time becoming acceptable to someone else that you have become a stranger to yourself.

There is an emotional price for betraying yourself.

The human spirit knows when it is being suppressed.

Your mind knows when your words are being censored.

Your heart knows when your feelings are being dismissed.

Your body knows when you are constantly living under emotional pressure.

You can pretend.

You can smile.

You can tell everyone everything is fine.

You can post beautiful pictures.

You can attend dinner parties.

You can shake hands.

You can laugh at jokes.

But inside, something is screaming.

Where did I go?

Belittling Is Not Love

If someone must make you feel small in order to feel powerful, that is not love.

If someone constantly mocks your intelligence, dismisses your accomplishments, ridicules your dreams, or attacks your character, that is not constructive criticism.

That is erosion.

A rock does not disappear because one wave hits it.

It disappears because wave after wave strikes the same place.

Human confidence can erode the same way.

One insult may not destroy you.

One criticism may not change you.

One sarcastic comment may not silence you.

But imagine hearing them repeatedly.

Day after day.

Month after month.

Year after year.

"You're ridiculous."

"Nobody cares."

"That's stupid."

"You think you're so smart."

"Here we go again."

"Why can't you be normal?"

"Nobody else would put up with you."

"You should be grateful I'm here."

Words matter.

Tone matters.

Repetition matters.

The people closest to us have extraordinary access to our emotional core. Their words can strengthen us or weaken us.

The tragedy is that some people use that access as a weapon.

Threats and Intimidation Change the Relationship

The moment someone begins using threats to force change, the relationship changes.

"If you don't change, I'm leaving."

"If you do that again, you'll regret it."

"You better listen to me."

"Just wait."

"I'll make sure everyone knows what you're really like."

Threats create fear.

Fear creates compliance.

Compliance may look like change.

But it is not growth.

A person who changes because they are afraid is not becoming better. They are learning how to survive.

There is a profound difference.

You cannot bully someone into becoming emotionally healthy.

You cannot intimidate someone into becoming loving.

You cannot threaten someone into becoming compatible with you.

You may temporarily change their behavior.

You may silence them.

You may frighten them.

You may force compliance.

But underneath that compliance, resentment is growing.

Pain is growing.

Loneliness is growing.

Distance is growing.

Eventually something breaks.

Sometimes the relationship breaks.

Sometimes the person breaks.

Sometimes both do.

Stop Trying to Create Your Perfect Person

If you are constantly trying to change the person in your life, I want you to consider something.

Perhaps they are not the problem.

Perhaps the problem is that you are demanding they become someone they never promised to be.

You have created a vision.

Your ideal spouse.

Your ideal partner.

Your ideal friend.

Your ideal child.

Your ideal employee.

Your ideal family member.

Then you place a real human being beside that imaginary person and constantly measure the difference.

Why can't you be more affectionate?

Why can't you be more ambitious?

Why can't you be quieter?

Why can't you be more social?

Why can't you be more organized?

Why can't you be more spontaneous?

Why can't you think like me?

Why can't you vote like me?

Why can't you worship like me?

Why can't you communicate like me?

Why can't you love like me?

Perhaps because they are not you.

They are themselves.

You have two choices.

Accept them or walk away.

There may be legitimate behaviors that must change in any healthy relationship. Abuse, addiction, dishonesty, betrayal, violence, and destructive behaviors cannot simply be excused with the words, "I am who I am."

Accountability matters.

Character matters.

Integrity matters.

But personality is not a character defect.

Individuality is not a disease.

Different is not broken.

If the fundamental person standing in front of you is someone you cannot accept, stop punishing them for failing to become your fantasy.

Walk away.

I Refuse to Apologize for Existing

There comes a moment in life when you must reclaim yourself.

You must remember who you were before you became afraid of someone's reaction.

You must remember what made you laugh.

You must remember what made you excited.

You must remember your dreams.

You must remember your voice.

You must remember your strength.

You must remember that you existed before this person entered your life.

You had thoughts.

You had beliefs.

You had interests.

You had passions.

You had friends.

You had a personality.

You had a life.

Perhaps you changed so gradually that you did not notice yourself disappearing.

Now it is time to come home.

Home to yourself.

This does not mean becoming selfish.

It does not mean refusing to compromise.

It does not mean becoming arrogant.

It does not mean ignoring the feelings of others.

It means refusing to erase yourself to make another person comfortable.

It means saying, "I will listen to you, but I will not surrender my identity to you."

It means saying, "I will consider your feelings, but I will not live in fear of them."

It means saying, "I will grow, but I will choose the direction of my growth."

It means saying, "I will apologize when I am wrong, but I will not apologize for being alive."

I am who I am.

Sometimes Walking Away Is the Most Loving Decision

We have been taught that walking away means failure.

Sometimes it does not.

Sometimes walking away is honesty.

If you spend every day wishing the person beside you were someone else, perhaps leaving is kinder than spending the next twenty years criticizing them.

If everything they do irritates you, leave.

If their personality embarrasses you, leave.

If their dreams annoy you, leave.

If their voice bothers you, leave.

If their interests make you angry, leave.

If you constantly imagine how much happier you would be if they changed, leave.

Give them the opportunity to find someone who appreciates the person they already are.

And give yourself the opportunity to find someone whose natural personality is more compatible with yours.

Stop holding someone emotionally hostage while demanding they transform themselves to earn your approval.

Likewise, if you are constantly being diminished, controlled, bullied, threatened, manipulated, intimidated, or emotionally punished for being yourself, you must seriously examine why you remain.

How much of yourself are you willing to sacrifice?

How quiet are you willing to become?

How small are you willing to feel?

How many dreams are you willing to abandon?

How many friendships are you willing to lose?

How many years are you willing to spend walking on eggshells?

How much of your identity must disappear before you finally say, "Enough"?

Sometimes walking away is not giving up on someone.

Sometimes it is refusing to give up on yourself.

Conclusion

I am who I am.

At sixty eight years old, I have lived long enough to understand something I wish more people understood when they were younger.

Life is incredibly short.

We spend years trying to impress people.

Years trying to satisfy people.

Years trying to avoid disappointing people.

Years changing our clothes, our words, our behavior, our dreams, our opinions, and sometimes our entire personality in an effort to earn acceptance.

Then one day we look at the calendar and realize decades have passed.

Where did the time go?

More importantly, where did we go?

There is nothing noble about spending your entire life pretending to be someone you are not.

There is nothing romantic about constantly being told you need to change.

There is nothing loving about being bullied into silence.

There is nothing healthy about living under threats.

There is nothing beautiful about emotional intimidation.

There is nothing admirable about surrendering your identity because you are afraid someone may leave.

Let them leave.

Yes, I said it.

Let them leave.

If someone can only love a modified version of you, they are not loving you.

They are loving their vision of you.

If someone needs you to become quieter, smaller, weaker, less ambitious, less social, less passionate, less expressive, and less alive so they can feel comfortable, perhaps they are not your person.

And if you are the person doing the changing, stop.

Look at the person beside you.

Really look at them.

Is this someone you can accept?

Not the imaginary version.

Not the future version.

Not the version you believe will emerge after another five years of criticism.

The person standing in front of you today.

Can you love that person?

Can you respect that person?

Can you allow that person to be themselves?

If the answer is no, have the courage to walk away.

Do not spend years dismantling another human being simply because they failed to become the person you imagined.

And to the person who has been disappearing, I want you to hear me.

Find yourself again.

Find your voice.

Find your laughter.

Find your dreams.

Find your friends.

Find your confidence.

Find the things that once made your eyes light up.

Find the person who existed before you began carefully measuring every word and anticipating every reaction.

You are allowed to grow.

You are allowed to change.

You are allowed to mature.

You are allowed to become wiser.

But growth should expand you, not erase you.

Change should strengthen you, not silence you.

Love should give you room to breathe, not make you afraid to inhale.

I am who I am.

You are who you are.

Perhaps we fit together.

Perhaps we do not.

Perhaps our personalities complement each other.

Perhaps they collide.

Perhaps our dreams travel in the same direction.

Perhaps our roads are taking us to entirely different destinations.

That is life.

Not every person is meant to remain in our lives forever.

But no human being should have to destroy themselves to convince another person to stay.

So here is my message.

If you love me, walk beside me.

If you care about me, encourage me.

If I am wrong, tell me the truth.

If I fall, help me stand.

If I make a mistake, allow me to learn.

If I need to grow, give me room to grow.

But do not belittle me.

Do not bully me.

Do not threaten me.

Do not intimidate me.

Do not manipulate me.

Do not slowly dismantle the person I am because you have decided you would prefer someone else.

If you want someone else, go find them.

I am who I am.

I will continue learning.

I will continue growing.

I will continue making mistakes.

I will continue trying to become a better version of myself.

But I will not become your version of me.

And if the person I am is not the person you want me to be, there is a door.

You are free to walk through it.

Because sometimes the most powerful act of self-respect is finally having the courage to say:

I am who I am. If you need me to become someone else to love me, walk away.

Bill Conley

America's Favorite Life Coach