essay
The Trap of Always Getting Better
*Not all growth is created equal.*
There’s a moment I see a lot—a client says: “I’ve done so much work on this. Why is it still showing up?”
They’re not wrong to ask. They’ve been doing the journaling. The reading. The breathing.
They’ve mapped the pattern, traced it back to childhood, even given it a clever name—and maybe a little smug self-awareness, too.
And yet… here it is again. Same emotional knot. Same tension in the chest. Same story pulling the same strings. Same fight, flight or freeze.
And the conclusion they often jump to is: “I must not be doing enough.” Or worse: “I’m never going to get it (something’s wrong with me.)”
But what if it’s not the amount of work that’s the problem?
What if it’s the kind of progress they’re making that’s keeping them stuck?
Three Kinds of Progress (But Only One Sets You Free)
Let’s name a few common flavors of progress that feel great—until they don’t.
1. Cognitive Progress
You understand it now. You can explain the pattern in three different modalities.
You’ve basically turned your childhood trauma into a TED Talk.
Useful? Absolutely. But insight isn’t integration. Knowing why doesn’t always help when you’re inside it—when your body’s in alarm and your old wiring has taken the wheel.
2. Performance Progress
You respond calmly. You pause before reacting. You sound like a mindfulness app.
But if that calm is really just controlled tension—if it’s “holding it together” with a frozen smile—it’s not transformation. It’s an improvement, but it’s still theater.
3. Structural Progress
You’ve cut out toxic people, designed your life around nervous system regulation, and only shop at farmer’s markets now. Hey—great setup.
But if all you’ve done is build a life that avoids your trigger, the trigger still runs the show.
What Real Transformation Actually Looks Like
It’s usually quieter. Less Instagrammable.
It shows up when:
– You feel it, but you don’t confuse it for who you are. (“I feel inadequate” instead of “I am inadequate.”)
– You don’t panic when it rises again—you breathe and stay present to yourself.
– You stop needing the pattern to disappear to know you’re okay. You see the wound—and meet it with compassion.
-Ultimately, you can invite it to share space with you and feel grateful for it.
It’s not that the old stuff never resurfaces. It’s that it no longer owns you. It when you have it rather than it having you!
A Client Story (That Might Sound Familiar)
One of my clients this week showed up in a zoom call frustrated. They’d had a moment where an old insecurity flared up. They felt rejected, got defensive, spiraled a little, and afterwards just felt… deflated. They noticed that the pattern was surfacing in many different places in their life.
They said:
“I can’t believe this is still happening. I’ve done so much work on this thing.”
And yeah—they have done work. Big work. Real breakthroughs.
I asked them:
“Did you notice what was different this time?”
They paused.
Eventually said:
“Well… I didn’t lash out. I stayed with the feeling instead of numbing it. And I did call someone afterwards instead of pretending I was fine…”
Yeah. That’s different!
It didn’t feel like progress because they were still feeling—and still judging their wholeness against some internal image of perfection. Only they didn’t see that as healthy.
But it *was* progress.
They didn’t run. They didn’t cover it with story.
They stayed. They felt. They shared.
We Miss Real Change Because It’s Not Flashy
Here’s the funny part (not “haha” funny, but still):
We expect transformation to feel like a movie montage—breakthroughs, clarity, new habits, and a soundtrack swelling at just the right moment. Instead, it often feels like… crying in your car, then going back inside and doing the next right thing.
We think we’ll know we’re growing when things get easier. But our usual yardsticks can mislead us. We often measure growth by:
– Is the pain gone?
– Do I always get it right now?
– Am I consistently enlightened?
But real change is sneakier.
It shows up as:
– Less reactivity
– More willingness to sit in discomfort
– A growing sense that nothing needs to be fixed before you can be whole
That’s not nothing.
That’s the work actually working.
So What Do You Do With This?
-
Ditch symptom-based measurement.
If you’re tracking “progress” by how absent the pain is, you’ll miss the ways you’re growing around it. You will miss the gift in the pain. -
Ask for help that doesn’t just give you tools.
Look for support that isn’t just there to fix something, but to see you.
Not the polished, well-explained version of you—but the part that’s still raw, still uncertain, still in it.
The right kind of help isn’t always about strategy—it’s about presence. -
Notice the kind of wins that feel like peace, not control.
That moment you didn’t pretend.
That breath you took before responding.
That time you felt it all and didn’t make it mean anything about your worth. -
Let go of needing proof.
Sometimes the truest growth is the growth you can’t prove to anyone.
And weirdly—that’s when it starts to stick… because it’s you having a relationship with you.
Transformation doesn’t mean you never get triggered again.
It means you stop thinking being triggered means you’ve failed; it means only that you are human. You learn that you don’t need to bring a negative assessment to a painful situation.
Transformation is not about becoming someone better. It’s about becoming someone real…first for yourself and then for others.
This week challange
Pick one moment this week when something uncomfortable rises up—shame, frustration, rejection, fear—and instead of moving away from it, stay with it for just 90 seconds.
No fixing. No journaling. No story.
Just notice:
- What it feels like in your body
- What urges come up (to distract, explain, defend)
- Whether you can let it be there without needing it to go
Then—don’t make it mean anything. Not about your progress. Not about your worth. Not about your future.
Just let it move through.
That’s real progress: not needing the moment to be different in order to stay with yourself.
Because the real kind of progress—the progress that actually frees you—is when life can move through you, and you no longer need to grip it, fix it, or prove anything to anyone… not even yourself. That’s when peace isn’t something you chase—it’s something you carry.