When a Strength Stops Serving You

I’m stubborn. Like… really stubborn.

It’s not always the fun, quirky kind of stubborn, either — it’s the kind that’s cost me time, opportunities, and probably a few relationships. I’ve stayed in situations too long, clung to beliefs I no longer subscribe to, and rejected help simply because it wasn’t my idea. I’ve defended opinions I wasn’t even fully aligned with anymore, just because I didn’t want to backpedal and admit I’d changed.

In some ways, I’ve taken pride in being stubborn. It meant I was strong. Independent. Unshakeable. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t fold. I didn’t cave. Yet, my growth was inevitably stunted - at least in the ways that mattered most. The thing about stubbornness is that it feels like control, but often, at least for me, it was fear.

And damn, fear can be convincing.

Fear of being wrong. Fear of not being taken seriously. Fear of being vulnerable or soft. Fear that changing your mind means you never really knew who you were in the first place ...

but here’s what I’m learning, slowly and imperfectly:

Thank fuck we all have the capacity to grow and change.

Growth is messy and inconvenient, and it usually occurs in the midst of everything else. Yet it’s also one of the best parts of being alive. We’re allowed to change our minds. We’re allowed to evolve, to unlearn, to reframe and if you’ve ever struggled to give yourself permission to pivot, you don’t need to earn it. Simply wanting better for yourself is enough.

I frequently need to remind myself of this: we get to change. We get to improve.

I don’t think stubbornness is all bad.

There’s a reason it shows up for people like me — people who’ve had to self-protect, who’ve lived a lot of life, who learned early on that sometimes you have to hold your ground.

Stubbornness can be resilience in disguise. It can be perseverance, tenacity, or grit.

Like any strength, though, it can go sideways when unchecked. When it becomes ego. When it prevents you from letting in new information, new people, or new versions of yourself. When it stops being protective and becomes performative.

So here’s where I’ve been succeeding this past year:

• I’m trying to pause before I react, instead of charging full speed ahead.

• I’m trying to ask, “Is this belief still serving me?” before defending it to the very end.

• I’m trying to let others help - even when it’s uncomfortable - because maybe they see something I don’t. Better yet, I’m trying to ask for help in the first place. What a concept.

• I’m trying to stop confusing being right with being safe.

  
  

It’s not easy.

Every time I feel challenged or called out, that old stubborn reflex kicks in. I want to defend, justify, and protect myself. I still catch myself holding on too tightly to ideas, to routines, to old wounds I haven’t quite released. This isn’t about fixing myself. It’s not about rejecting the stubborn parts of me entirely.  It’s about learning how to guidethem with more intention. How to round the corners, so to speak, because being stubborn in and of itself isn’t the problem.

Being unwilling to evolve? That’s where I believe we get stuck.

So I’ll keep showing up. I’ll keep trying. I’ll keep working to do a little better, not because I need to become someone else, but because I believe in who I’m becoming.

And that belief?  It’s stubborn as hell.

But this time, in all the right ways.

Something to think about

What part of yourself have you always thought of as a flaw - or even a strength - that might make more sense if you got curious about what it’s been trying to do for you?