I’ll Do It When I’m Good and Ready: Honoring the Stages of Change

We tend to resist change until not changing becomes harder than changing.

Spring is often used as a symbol of change. This time of year also marks something personal for me: it has been ten years since I began my recovery journey. If you had told me back then that I would one day get to a place of enjoying life, rather than just trying to manage it, I wouldn’t have believed you.

Meaningful change is often like that. It happens incrementally, usually beginning from a place of discomfort. Because change is unfamiliar. And the unfamiliar can be scary.

Sometimes we have a clear idea of where we want to go and a plan for how to get there. Other times we simply start moving toward change without knowing exactly where the path will lead, guided only by the sense that something has to be better than what we are currently experiencing.

Sticking with what we know for as long as it works has its benefits. Suppose we rely on fishing as our main source of sustenance. If we know a certain path through the woods leads to a lake with fish, we take that path.

If the number of fish in the lake begins to dwindle, hunger will likely prompt us to explore a new path. We might scope out the land, eventually find another lake, and settle into a new routine. It may be farther away, but it has far more fish, making the journey worthwhile.

Then comes a day when making the longer trip to the new lake feels too daunting. Maybe we’re tired, the weather isn’t cooperating, or our legs are sore. We decide to return to the old lake. Maybe it will be different this time.

After a few unsuccessful trips, hunger returns. We head back to the new lake, this time with a stronger conviction that this is truly the best lake, despite the extra effort it takes to get there.

The Transtheoretical Model describes change as a process that unfolds in stages: precontemplation, contemplation, preparation, action, maintenance, and relapse.

My own experience with these stages has convinced me that I cannot be convinced of anything until I am good and ready. It may be obvious to others that there is a problem, but until I feel the discomfort myself, I will stay the course.

There can be a tendency to characterize stages like precontemplation or relapse as negative. But each stage serves a purpose. Looking back at times when I was convinced everything was fine despite clear signs to the contrary reminds me how powerful denial can be. That awareness keeps me open and teachable, and strengthens my conviction that change was necessary.

Change is difficult. It can be even more difficult to watch someone you love struggle with change and feel powerless to help them. Sometimes the most supportive thing we can do is respect the stage someone is in, even when we wish they were somewhere else. Whether I am supporting someone else through the process or navigating change myself, I try to bring compassion and curiosity into the experience. I try to remember that I don’t know what someone else’s journey will look like.

After all, I didn’t know what my own would look like either.

Like a seedling pushing up through the soil toward the sun, meaningful change often begins with a small movement in the direction of something better. We take a step without knowing exactly where the path will lead, trusting that over time it will bring us where we need to go.

Next
Next

How Two Burritos and One Pint of Ice Cream Hold a Marriage Together