Why you keep feeling like change never lasts

For the longest time, I thought I was the problem.

I would reach these moments of resolve where I swore to myself, “This time it’s going to be different.” Maybe you know that feeling, where you draw a hard line and feel the rush of certainty that you’re finally ready. You map out the habit you’ll commit to, the way you’ll show up differently, the kind of person you’ll be from here on out. And for a while, it works. You actually feel lighter, like maybe you’ve finally cracked the code.

And then it happens. You slip, sometimes in a small way you barely notice at first, other times in one dramatic moment where it feels like the “old you” barged through the door again. You find yourself saying the same words you promised not to say, avoiding the same conversation you swore you’d face, reacting in a way that makes you wonder if you’ve actually changed at all.

That moment isn’t just frustrating. It’s gutting. Because it makes you start asking questions you don’t want to admit out loud: Am I even capable of change? Why do I always end up here? Maybe this is just who I am.

I used to carry that shame like a secret. On the outside, I looked fine. Strong. Put together. But inside, I felt like a fraud. Every time I circled back to an old pattern, it was like proof that I wasn’t really growing, no matter how much effort I put in.

I remember sitting in my car after a fight one night, gripping the steering wheel so hard my hands hurt. I couldn’t even bring myself to look in the mirror because I didn’t want to see my own face staring back at me. My body was buzzing with shame and anger, and the only thought running through my mind was: “Didn’t I already fix this? Didn’t I already learn this lesson?” That’s when the despair set in, because if all the work I’d done hadn’t mattered, what hope was there?

For years, I thought the answer was to double down on effort. Read another book. Try a new strategy. Commit harder. Push myself more. And every time, I would hit the same wall. What I didn’t realize then was that the wall wasn’t about effort. It wasn’t that I wasn’t trying hard enough; it was that I was trying to live as a new person while still carrying the old identity underneath it all.

That old identity, the version of me shaped by survival, shame, and proving myself, was still in charge. She was the one making choices, even when I swore I was different. And as long as she was in the driver’s seat, no amount of new habits could stick.

That’s why change never felt permanent. Because I was layering new behaviors on top of an identity that never actually shifted.

And here’s the part that changed everything: the moment I saw that, I realized I wasn’t broken. I wasn’t doomed to repeat the same story forever. I was simply trying to create a transformation from the wrong layer of myself.

When you start to ask, “Which version of me is showing up here?” the whole story changes. Suddenly, the shame loosens its grip, because you can see the truth: it isn’t that you can’t change, it’s that you’ve been asking the wrong part of you to lead.

So if you’ve felt like nothing ever sticks, please hear me on this: there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re not lazy or weak. You’re just still living from an outdated identity. And the fact that you feel the frustration of bumping up against it is actually proof that you’re closer than you think.

The point isn’t that you’re failing. The point is that your old self doesn’t fit anymore and your body, your mind, your whole being knows it. That’s why it feels so unbearable.

And that’s the doorway into real change.

👽💚
Danielle