The Messy Middle of Change
When your past overshadows your growth and how to keep going
Change is not a light switch.
You don’t flip it on and instantly become the new you.
Real change is clumsy.
You take two steps forward, one step back.
You make progress… and then you mess up.
You try again, a little wiser this time.
But here’s the part that stings:
When you’ve told people you’re working on changing, they rarely give you the grace to stumble.
Instead, they hold onto the old version of you like it’s permanent.
If you’ve ever had a family member, friend, or coworker who just can’t update their mental file on you, you know what I’m talking about.
It’s like you’re saying, “I’ve changed. I’m changing. I’m trying.”
And they’re saying, “Yeah right, I know who you really are.”
That perception is a prison.
It traps you in the past and magnifies every misstep you make in the present.
Slip up once, and they’ll say, “See? You haven’t changed at all.”
My Story
I have two brothers, whom I love more than life itself. They’re fun, they’re smart, and being around them is always a good time. But my relationships with them are different.
One brother and I talk daily—we’re close. The other… not so much. Even though we talk often, I do almost all the talking. He shares things with my mom and other brother, but with me? If I didn’t carry the conversation, it would be silence.
It hurts. Clearly it is because of me and the person he sees me as and I don’t know how to fix that.
He was my first friend in life. Even though he’s younger, I idolized him. He was everything I wasn’t growing up—confident, fearless, funny, extroverted. He made friends easily and didn’t care what anyone thought. I was shy, anxious, self-conscious and struggled socially.
In our teenage years, we drifted. I wanted his attention so badly that when I didn’t get it, I took the wrong route—negative attention. I bothered him. Pressed his buttons. Competed with him. At least he noticed me, even if it wasn’t positive.
By my twenties, I had become a version of myself I didn’t like. I was depressed. I gossiped. My family didn’t trust me with sharing things. I was in toxic jobs, surrounded by people who tore me down. I hit rock bottom.
That’s when I started working with Dee Wallace—yes, the mom from E.T. She had a way of holding up a mirror and helping me dismantle every limiting belief I had. For five years, I did the work:
Repeating new beliefs 500 times a day.
Writing them on sticky notes.
Observing my thoughts like a hawk.
Learning to pause before reacting.
Choosing the person I wanted to be in each moment.
One of the biggest shifts?
I stopped seeking attention from others and started focusing on my own life. I stopped living for other people’s approval and started building the version of me I wanted to be.
It wasn’t perfect. I had setbacks—still do. But I’ve worked relentlessly to build myself into someone I’m proud of. Someone I’d want to be around. Someone who no longer fits the old labels from my past.
And yet… my family doesn’t always see it.
Recently, my brother told me how much I annoy him. He said I text and call too much—though if we checked, 75% of those messages are about the business we’re building together. He said I gossip. He said he still doesn’t find me trustworthy.
That last one hit me — not because it’s true now, but because it reminded me that some people will always see you through the lens of who you were years ago, no matter how much you’ve changed.
That’s a hard pill to swallow.
Part of me hates those old versions of myself—the ones that damaged our closeness in the first place. But I can’t erase them. And maybe I shouldn’t. Those unpretty moments pushed me to grow into the person I am now.
My mom always says, “Stop changing for him or for anyone.” But here’s the truth: I don’t want to stay a person others don’t want to be around. If someone points out a flaw that’s worth addressing—gossip, unreliability, dishonesty—I want to change that.
The people I attract now due to the person I have changed and grown into are incredible—positive, uplifting, aligned with the life I want. And I’m learning to accept that my brother may never see this version of me.
Because here’s the thing:
The changes I make are for me—but everyone around me benefits from them.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
People are slow to change their opinion of you—and some never will.
Declaring your change makes you a target for scrutiny. You’ll be judged harder for the same mistakes others get away with.
You have to give yourself the grace they won’t give you. (READ THAT AGAIN)
If you wait for them to believe in your growth before you commit to it, you’ll never get anywhere.
If you expect universal applause for evolving, you’ll be disappointed.
So yes—work to shed the traits that hurt your relationships.
Yes—strive to be more trustworthy, more reliable, more compassionate.
But also understand: you’re playing a long game, and other people’s perceptions are often the last thing to change.
In the meantime, your job is to keep going.
Keep showing up as the new you until one day, that’s all you are—setbacks and all—and even the loudest doubters have nothing left to say.