This is Why You Probably Won't Change
Photo by LOGAN WEAVER on Unsplash
I was standing up at my coaching program, holding a mic amongst a sea of my classmates. I had just finished sharing about my “predicament” — that my love life sucked.
I stopped talking and from the front of the stage, my teacher said, “Is it safe to say you’re pretty good at everything?”
I chuckled and replied, “Um…I think so, yeah.”
She went on. “Things come easy for you, yeah? You seem very charming. Very sweet. People probably like you a lot. I’m sure you’re very good at your job. I bet you don’t even have to try that hard.”
I was standing there in a large room with hundreds of people I had just met, one month into our six-month journey together as coaches.
Her response to my “predicament” had me feeling pretty nailed and uncomfortable — it was the sensation of actually being seen.
Yes, everything she was saying was my reality. But I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth. I was raised by a single mom; we were pretty poor most of my life, and my dad has a prison record. I struggled with mental health and addiction. But to her question, yes, things did come pretty easily for me.
I learned how to play the game very well.
Every job I’ve walked into, I’ve always been the best at. I was the best sales rep, the best employee, the boss’s favorite. My coworkers always simultaneously hated me while also being awestruck. How did she do it?
When I worked in fintech sales, I outsold my male colleagues 10 times over each month. I was making a quarter-million dollars a year by age 25 — just a girl from small-town Nowhere-ville, New York.
Yes, I was very good at achieving “things” in life. I had a good job, good enough friends, plenty of money, career success, and I was involved in my community. It all came easily, and my teacher was right in that I didn’t have to try very hard, either.
The truth, however, was that underneath it all, I was struggling with actual depth, real connection, and lasting intimacy in my relationships, hence I enrolled in a six-month coaching program with a bunch of spiritual whackos and conscious community folks, thinking maybe they had the answers.
Everything I had done up to that point wasn’t working. Trying to make more money, meet more friends, and find a more attractive partner didn’t make me feel more whole with myself. The game I was running of looking good and being successful stopped working, but to the untrained eye, I had no reason to complain. What wasn’t there to be happy about?
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.” — Marianne Williamson
My charm and talent were smokescreens.
What was inside of me terrified me. See, I had a lot of power and it was a lot to hold, so it was much easier to stay surface-level…and most people bought what I was presenting. That’s why everything came easily.
I used all my power and energy making the facade look good so I could avoid the real goods inside.
It was a constant dance of deeply wanting to be seen by others while simultaneously being terrified that someone actually might.
I’d let them get a little close — men, or the people who wanted to help me. I’d let them access just a bit, and when they got hooked, I’d push them away or create a fight to break the intimacy. From there, I loved to play the victim: They were the mean or crazy ones for coming in to actually connect.
Repeat cycle of insanity.
That was my game.
For the most part, it was a benevolent game. I wasn’t trying to intentionally hurt anyone. I was genuinely terrified of my own power. I was terrified of anyone getting too close to witnessing it and then requiring me to be responsible for it and hold it all the way through.
We do things to protect ourselves.
It wasn’t until my coaching program that my teachers caught onto my game and they didn’t want to play because they wanted all of me to come out. They were committed to me finally stepping into my power because they knew I was tortured inside and had paid them to call BS on my stories.
They would say things like, “We’re not coming in to get you, Molly. You need to stay all the way out. Be honest and hold the weight of your desires.”
Then they’d take their attention off of me so as to stop feeding into my patterns, and that destroyed my game. There was no one to play back and there was no more fuel to add to the fire.
Then, there was The Relationship — the man who also wouldn’t participate. I had finally met my match. He didn’t give a damn about my fancy finance career or my successful life. He didn’t care about what a good person I was to the outside world. He didn’t buy the smokescreen and charm I could get away with flashing to everyone else. He cared about what was inside. My desire, my truth, and if I was willing to do the hard work to acknowledge the actual depth of my appetite. He cared about my honesty and my real essence.
In that relationship, I had the experience of waking up, and as a result, all of my patterns were disrupted.
My good girl and people-pleasing rituals fell away. The damsel in distress (Please save me, I’m a weak, frail woman and need a strong man to save me from my own power!) role didn’t work anymore since no one wanted to participate.
I’m so glad they didn’t, even though at the time I hated it and them. It was painful letting these parts fall away and die, but the truth deep inside me was eternally grateful. If they had played along like everyone else, I wouldn’t have learned how to fully step forward as a woman.
In that coaching program and in that relationship, I transitioned from girl to woman. A woman who learned how to hold her power and communicate powerfully, and as a result, call forth a man to serve and be in integrity to the relationship as well.
Why do we play these games? Why do we diminish our power and try to withhold and give it all away? Why do we try to get people to believe we’re happy and fulfilled with our mediocre efforts? Why not just show up fully and act powerfully in relationships and in life from the start?
We Get a Payoff
We wouldn’t do things if there wasn’t a payoff — some kind of benefit that we got out of it, right?
When we play or construct these games, we’re able to impress people with a manipulated image of success. We project that we’re more interesting or fulfilled than we may actually be. If we actually tried and gave it our all, showed all of ourselves, and went after the truth of what we really wanted, we may fail or no longer fit in. There is a payoff in staying comfortable and following the crowd. We get to avoid the discomfort of growth.
In relationships, hooking people with our charm is fun. We can get them to chase us, be interested in us, work hard to earn our attention and affection, and then prove that they love us. Then we feel powerful and in control. That can feel good.
But showing up with a backbone and being confident in our power from the start will attract available people who won’t be matches for our games. They’ll be honest with us, challenge us, not chase the bait, and require all of us to come out. We won’t be able to give away our power and that can be confronting.
The game will work until it doesn’t — until an available person comes along who requires more of you. Or the BS-sniffers like my teachers. If you’re a very skilled game player, though, and your games work well, there will always be a fresh supply of players and you risk never changing and touching that real truth and power inside.
We Fear Yet Desire Losing Control
When we’re in control, we feel pretty powerful. Well-constructed games will successfully allow us to always be in control. That’s fine and dandy until we get bored, like I did. My games worked way too well, and I felt unfulfilled. My life looked great; I controlled all the pieces and the players and yet I was miserable.
I believe we’re all looking for the experience of being taken out of control.
We may or may not know that consciously. Cue the adrenaline junkies and entrepreneurs; people who like a risk but with a purpose. Doing crazy things and having a business can definitely require more of us than a run-of-the-mill job, and the pursuit can make us feel more alive.
We love and loathe relationships because they take us out of control. They make us feel things and put us in connection with another person who we can’t always control, but as a result, we access more of ourselves than going at it alone.
Our biology has us wired to seek certainty and comfort, and as a result, we fear losing ourselves to something. Games we play with others and with ourselves keep us from losing our grip and venturing into an unknown territory that may rip off our masks and our well-constructed identities.
We Can Always Blame Others
When we play games, we’re avoiding the truth. We’re avoiding real intimacy, connection with others, and we’re avoiding our own power. We get to escape responsibility; we can coast and show people only a small percentage of what actually exists inside.
When we avoid our power and avoid taking full responsibility, everyone else can be at fault when we aren’t having the experiences we want. It’s the partner who doesn’t show up like we want them to; it’s the boss who doesn’t acknowledge us enough; it’s our bad luck.
When we’re fully in our power and living confidently, we live our lives in integrity and in alignment with our truth. We communicate clearly, we apologize and course correct when we misstep, and we hunger for more and live from a place of ambition and desire.
“Most of us have two lives. The life we live, and the unlived life within us. Between the two stands resistance.” — Steven Pressfield
Taking responsibility and having agency over our desires is the harder path to take, so it’s easier to blame others when life doesn’t look like we think it should. We forget and would rather ignore the fact that it’s we who have all the power over how our lives go.
We would rather construct games, get others to play along with us, and buy our stories so that we can avoid showing up fully.
Holding our power and taking responsibility for our desires isn’t always easy and sometimes we need help.
Start by surrounding yourself with people who tell you the truth, who see your brilliance, and who push you to your full potential. Spend time learning about yourself, your patterns, the ways you avoid your own power and success, and the ways you enlist others to buy your false stories and narratives. Make friends with secure people who want to see you succeed and not fail, and be discerning when choosing a partner. Find someone who wants to be of service to the essence inside and draw more out of you, not someone who wants to save, rescue, or enable you to stay stuck in your patterns.
We attract people who are similar to us, so the work starts within. Be willing to be ruthlessly honest and give up your games if you really want an adventurous life of depth and desire
Want to know what’s really keeping you from finding love? In my 60 min masterclass How to Find Your Partner in Crime, I’ll walk you through the pitfalls that keep women just like you from experiencing lasting love. AND I’ll show you how to shift your perspective so you can stop repeating sabotaging patterns. Claim your spot HERE to join me live.