Relearning Normal: How Real Change Actually Happens

Something I see over and over again — in my practice, in my own life, and in almost every conversation I have with someone working hard toward a goal — is this: we quit right before things start to work.

Not because we’re lazy or undisciplined. Because we’ve been operating with a fundamentally flawed assumption about what change actually requires — and when we don’t get the results we expected, our brains write a story that it’s us, not the assumption, that’s the problem.

I want to talk about that today.

The Expectation Problem

Our minds have a deeply ingrained belief that effort should yield immediate, visible results. We put in a week of good habits and check the mirror. We practice a new leadership skill once in a meeting and wonder why nothing feels different. When the results don’t appear on our timeline, the automatic thought arrives fast: “This isn’t working. This wasn’t meant for me. Maybe I’m just not capable of this.”

I’ve been there myself. After having babies, I would bundle everyone up and go for walks, jog a little, feel proud of myself — and then after a couple of weeks, see nothing change on the scale. So I’d quit. What I missed entirely was that I was feeling happier, sleeping better, and building a routine that my future self desperately needed me to sustain. I just didn’t know what to look for, so I dismissed the real progress I was making.

The skills that got us to where we are will not take us to where we want to be — because if they could, we’d already be there.

Real change isn’t a transaction. It’s a process. And it’s more layered than we think. When I was working on improving my sleep, I assumed I just needed to put my phone down earlier. What I eventually learned was that it involved testing for sleep apnea, checking hormones and blood levels, changing my relationship with stress, adjusting exercise and diet, and in some cases, reconsidering what I was saying yes to in my life. It took years, not weeks. And even now, it’s not perfect — but I know myself well enough now to turn things around quickly when they go sideways. That knowledge was earned.

Becoming Someone New

This is the part most people resist, and I understand why. But meaningful change doesn’t just bolt new behaviors onto your existing identity. It asks you to grow into a different one.

Think about what it actually means to become each of these people:

•  A well-rested person doesn’t just go to bed earlier. They’ve decided that rest is a legitimate priority, examined what’s actually disrupting their sleep, and built their life around protecting it.

•  A calm person has learned to notice tension early, built the skill of setting boundaries, and practiced being okay with disappointing people when necessary.

•  A strong leader actively seeks feedback even when it’s uncomfortable, studies leadership consistently, and practices new skills imperfectly — then keeps going anyway.

•  A person who exercises regularly has found movement they actually enjoy, released the all-or-nothing thinking, and made peace with missing a day without letting it become a reason to quit.

Think about someone who embodies what you’re working toward. What do they actually do? Who have they had to become? It’s worth asking them — not to be intimidated by their path, but to understand what the road is really made of.

My Daughter and the Volleyball Court

Post-COVID, my daughter decided she wanted to play volleyball — and not just make the team, but actually be good. She had only ever played in gym class.

What followed was a full identity shift. She started moving her body more, took lessons, overhauled her sleep and nutrition, made hard choices about how she spent her time, and worked closely with a physiotherapist to prevent and rehab injuries. She became a different person than she’d been the year before — not because she found a shortcut, but because she committed to becoming someone who lived like an athlete.

What strikes me most is this: none of us could have imagined at the start where that journey would take her. Because every time she reached a goal, she could suddenly see the next level. That’s what happens when you stop trying to add new behaviors to your old self and actually commit to becoming someone new.

Achieving and Maintaining Are Not the Same Skill

Here’s something I return to often: getting somewhere and staying there are two completely different things. Many of us reach a goal and quietly assume the effort can stop. But what we don’t use, we lose — whether it’s a new language, a leadership capability, a healthy habit, or an emotional regulation skill.

I played piano seriously for years. I was good. And then I stopped practicing at that level, and I lost a great deal of what I’d built. Now I play for 15 or 20 minutes when I want to, just for the joy of it. That’s sustainable. That’s something I’ll actually do.

The question worth asking before you commit to a goal: Is this something I’m willing to do, in some form, for the long term? Not perfectly. Not at maximum intensity. But consistently, as a natural expression of who you’re becoming.

The Thought Underneath the Quitting

You already know this, but it bears repeating in this context: when we hit a wall in our progress, the automatic thought arrives fast and feels like truth. “This isn’t working.” “I’m not capable of this.” “I’ve always been this way.” That thought creates a feeling of defeat, and that feeling drives the decision to quit.

The circumstances — the number on the scale, the meeting that didn’t go the way you hoped, the week you didn’t sleep well — are neutral. What gives them power is the story we attach to them.

“My effort isn’t producing results” can become: “I’m learning what my body and mind actually need. This is data, not failure.” Same circumstances. Completely different trajectory.

A Few Things That Actually Help

•  Take smaller bites.  We fail at change when we try to overhaul everything at once. Pick one thing, do it consistently, and let that become the foundation for the next thing. The goal isn’t speed. It’s sustainability.

•  Expand your definition of success.  Are you more aware of your patterns than you were last month? Did you catch yourself before you said yes to something you wanted to decline? Did you feel proud of yourself, even briefly? Name it. That’s progress.

•  Cultivate faith in the process.  In order to get to the next level, you have to believe in something you can’t fully see yet. When you show up for yourself consistently in new ways, results are inevitable — they just may not arrive on your timeline or in the form you expected.

•  Get expert support.  You can figure this out on your own. But in my experience, expert guidance gets you there faster, with fewer detours, and with better outcomes. It’s an investment, not an indulgence.

You’ve Done This Before

As children, we became different people every few months without even thinking about it. We went into summer as one version of ourselves and came back in September visibly changed — more capable, more confident, shaped by what we’d experienced. We didn’t agonize over whether the effort was worth it. We just lived, and growth happened.

As adults, we think harder. We weigh the cost of our time and energy. We carry the memory of past attempts. And we’re far more conscious of the gap between where we are and where we want to be.

But the capacity for growth hasn’t gone anywhere. The process is the same. It just requires tenacity, self-compassion, and the willingness to become someone you can’t fully picture yet.

A year from now, would your future self thank you for starting today?

I thank my past self regularly for the things she did that I didn’t fully understand at the time. And I try to offer myself grace for the things I didn’t know yet. That balance — gratitude for the effort, compassion for the gaps — is what makes it possible to keep going.

You can do this. And I’d love to hear where you are in the process.