Most of us want to change something about ourselves. Maybe we want to be more confident, more focused, more creative, more fit — or just different. We imagine this future version of ourselves and think, “Yes. That’s who I want to be.”
But no matter how clear that picture is, we often stay stuck exactly where we are.
Why?
It’s not just because we lack motivation or discipline. A big reason we don’t change is because everything around us is designed to keep us the same. Our daily routine, our job (or lack of one), our friends, the places we go, the conversations we have, even our wake-up time and eating habits — all of them form a kind of invisible structure. And that structure is built for the current version of us, not the one we want to become.
I know this personally. I’ve spent a long time wishing that one day I’ll just wake up and suddenly be the kind of person who makes music regularly, shoots videos, earns enough money to travel, writes a book, writes a screenplay, becomes good at drawing — the whole dream list.
But deep down, I also know this: if I don’t make meaningful changes to the environment around me, all the things that stop me now will keep stopping me forever.
Let’s start with work. Your job affects more than your bank balance. It decides your schedule, your energy levels, your self-worth. If you spend your day bored or burned out, it’s no surprise you don’t come home buzzing with creativity.
It’s incredibly hard to become passionate and focused when you’re already exhausted.
For me, the problem is the opposite — I don’t have a job right now. I’m terrified of rejection (see my previous post for that one), so I keep putting it off until it becomes absolutely unavoidable and a lot more stressful than it needs to be.
There are hundreds of thousands of things I could do about it. Do I do any of them? Nope.
And then there are friends. People tend to see you as the version of yourself they first met. So when you start to change — maybe you want to drink less, speak up more, try new things — your friends might laugh it off, change the subject, or just look confused.
Not because they don’t care, but because they’re used to the old you. And without realising it, they might pull you back into old habits just by being themselves.
Most friend groups run on a routine. Same jokes, same places, same roles. If your group hangs out at the pub, then you’re more likely to drink. If you’re known as the “quiet one”, you’re less likely to speak up.
It’s not personal — it’s just inertia.
That’s why you have to stop and ask yourself: Does this group dynamic help me grow into who I want to be? Or is it keeping me stuck?
Routine plays a huge role too. Our lives run in patterns — how we start our mornings, what apps we open when we’re bored, even which streets we walk down. These habits might seem small, but they add up. They shape the way we think, act, and feel.
Here’s an example. I always thought of myself as a night owl — someone who stays up late and sleeps past 10 a.m. (if we’re honest, past 1 p.m.). But then I noticed that if I had to get up at 4 a.m. for a flight, I could do it easily.
So I tried waking up at 4 a.m. for a few days in a row. And guess what? It actually worked.
But here’s what I realised: I didn’t hate mornings — I hated my mornings.
I grew up in a family of seven. Getting ready during peak bathroom hours was basically a fistfight (okay, not really — but close). I craved a slow start to my day. Wake up. Exercise. Shower. Eat. Walk. Then work.
But how was I supposed to do that when the window for bathroom access was ten minutes long and full of chaos?
So I made the change. I had a peaceful, structured routine for about three weeks. Then one weekend of staying up to watch WrestleMania 41 broke the streak, and suddenly I was back to old habits.
That’s how fragile a new routine is in an old environment. It only takes one disruption to slip back into the past.
But it also taught me something powerful: tiny details make a big difference.
If I bring my phone to bed, I’ll use it. If I leave a book on my bedside table, I’ll read it. If I put on my sleep mask, I actually try to fall asleep. My environment doesn’t just influence me — it guides me.
That’s why people often change the most after something big happens: a breakup, a move, a new job, a loss, even just travelling somewhere new. Those moments shake up the rhythm of our lives.
Suddenly, you’re not playing the same role on the same stage. You’re somewhere new, and that gives you a “free hit” — a rare opportunity to try something different without the weight of your old life pulling you back.
But you don’t have to wait for life to hit you with a crisis. You can choose to shift things, piece by piece.
Stop going to the same places. Start your mornings differently. Meet new people. Change how you spend your evenings.
Even small tweaks can create enough space for something new to grow.
That doesn’t mean burning your whole life down. But it does mean being honest about which parts of it need to shift if you want to become someone truly different.
That might mean:
- Finding friends who understand what you’re trying to do
- Getting a different kind of job — or changing how you relate to the one you have
- Moving house, even just a little bit further from familiar routines
- Changing how your days start and end
- Spending more time in unfamiliar places
Change isn’t just about trying harder. It’s about escaping the gravitational pull of the life you’ve already built.
Because the truth is: it’s really hard to stay the same in a new environment. And it’s really hard to change in the same one.
At first, it’ll feel weird. Maybe even lonely. You’ll miss the comfort of old patterns and familiar roles. But that’s okay. Change always feels uncomfortable at the start. If you stick with it, though, you’ll slowly start building a new rhythm — and a new version of yourself to go with it.
You can’t write the next chapter of your story if you’re still living on the same old page.