Latest / Thinking Out Loud | Kimberly / What Does It Mean for People to Act Out of Character? | Thinking Out Loud
Transcript
- Kimberly: Alright, so this is a sample example. ⁓ What we're trying to make a change of. So this episode is ⁓ episode twenty-four. And we're just trying a whole new style. And the music that I have is called Silent World. So hopefully we can keep that going. Anyways. Three, two, one. What does it even mean for people to act out of character? When we say someone is acting out of character, it rarely means they woke up as a completely different person. Most of the time, it means the version of them your body learned to expect. Is it no longer the version you're three, two, one? When we say someone's acting out of character, it rarely means they just woke up as a completely different person. Most of the time it just means this: the version your body learned to expect is no longer the version you're getting. Your nervous system builds a map of people over time. How they speak, how they handle stress, how they apologize, how they show up, how they show love, how they repair after conflict. Those patterns become emotional landmarks. Character is what it feels like when those landmarks start disappearing. The relationship shifts from mostly predictable to increasingly unpredictable. You stop knowing which version of them will show up, and that changes how we come from three to one. And that can change based on different places people are in and three, two, one. And that can change based on where people are at in life. It could be trauma, burnout, grief, resentment, mental health struggles. Sometimes it's seasons of survival where you're getting the most reactive per the most re the more reactive seasons three, two, one, seasons of survival where you're probably getting a more reactive version of them that might shut down or be numb to things. Or even growth. where they have become softer and have more boundaries than they might have had before. Maybe acting out of character doesn't always mean someone is being fake or turning bad. It could mean their pain. Three, two, one. It often just means that it often means they might be experiencing pain. They might be showing signs of healing. They could simply be exhausted and are now leading the way. Three, two, one. Simply exhausted, which is now leading the way more loudly than their usual self. The question isn't just why are they different? Maybe it's more how has this become the new pattern? And is this new pattern emotionally safe for me to stay in for? Three, two, one. And is this new power three, two, one? And I think an honest question to ask ourselves is this. Has this become the new pattern? And is this new pattern emotionally safe for me to stay inside for long term? Hi, it's me Kimberly. Most of the time the shift is gradual. Smaller changes, tiny inconsistencies, little moments that just feel off. The scary parts, humans are creatures of habit. We build relationships around predictability, not perfection, predictability. You learn someone's patterns, their tones, their reaction, how they love, how they apologize, and how they handle stress. Over time, your nervous system starts treating those patterns like emotional landmarks. What happens when the predictability drops though from 80% down to 70, 60, even 50? You usually feel it before you can even explain it. Sometimes it starts shifting. Sometimes three, two, one. Something starts shifting. You second guess yourself more, you overanalyze tone, you're wondering which version of this person you're going to get today. And eventually somewhere underneath all of that confusion, you sit with a quieter question that starts forming. Is this a ⁓ three, two, one, is this relationship even emotionally safe anymore for me? Is this relationship even emotionally safe for me anymore? Before we go any further though, quick note. This podcast is reflection three, two, one. This podcast is for reflection and conversation, not professional advice. Take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and listen in a way that feels supportive for you. It can be scary to trust again after experiencing a relationship that felt too good be three, two, one. It can be scary to trust again. After experiencing a relationship that felt so good, too good to be true. Only for it to eventually turn into something painful, confusing, and unrecognizable. That can happen in many kinds of relationships: family, friendships, romance, coworkers, mentors, even community spaces that once felt safe. Sometimes there's this rush in the beginning, the feeling of finally being seen, understood, accepted. Because of that, we dive in fully, we trust too quickly. We relax into the connection. What happens when the hard times finally show up, though? And that's a whole different foundation completely. Three, two, one. What happens though when hard times finally come? And the entire foundation was built on nothing but the good times. ⁓ alert. At first, the shifts may feel not alarming. When the relationship goes from 100% certainty, because good times were hitting good, to 95, 90, even 80, still feels human. You can still justify it. It feels normal. People have bad days. Stress happens. Conflict happens. Once that predictability starts dropping lower and lower, you begin to feel it. The tension, the confusion, the fear, you start wondering which version of the person you're gonna get. It's important to say this clearly though. It is normal for people to struggle. It is normal for relationships to go through difficult seasons. What happens when instability lasts for weeks, months, or even years? At some point, many people quietly begin to ask themselves the questions like What am I tolerating? What parts of this are unhealthy? What am I no longer able to distance myself from? Because you don't need someone to be perfect to feel in Because we really don't need people to feel three, two, one. Because we really don't need people to be perfect to feel in two three, two, one. We really don't need perfect to feel secure in real three, two, one. We r because we really don't need someone to be perfect to feel secure. We just need to know who you're talking to, who's showing up at your door. And who are you coming home to or who are you coming home to emotionally? What does acting out of character even mean? Sometimes it actually is what three two one. Sometimes it's actually what people think it is. Someone be three, two, one, someone is behaving in a way that feels unfamiliar, shocking, or unlike the version of them you thought you knew. Or you do know they're just a little spicy. Usually it's complicated. Sometimes people are going through experiment three, two, and sometimes people are going through it. They're experiment three, two, one. They're experiencing fundamental change on how safe the world feels to them. A person who once adored children may suddenly become irritable or emotionally reactive around them after discovering an affair or betrayal connected to their family life or their marriage. Not because they suddenly hate children, rather their nervous system is overwhelmed with grief, anger, shame, and unresolved pain. Someone who spent years loving dogs may become more reactive after being attacked by one. Even a playful puppy nipping on their hand can trigger panic, tension, and fear their body now associates with danger. Someone who has been repeatedly gaslit may struggle to trust people's intentions. Not because they want to accuse everyone for lying. Rather, they learned that it feels three, two, one, they learned what it feels like to have their reality distorted until they no longer trusted their own instincts and they had to abandon themselves entirely. Someone who was abandoned by three, two, one, someone struggling with abandonment may crave closeness while simultaneously fearing it. They may pull people close and push them away doing the push pull behavior, but at the same time, part of them is consistently bracing for rejection. Essentially so three, two, one, essentially self-sabotaging themselves. A person who grew up being screamed at may shut down during even calm disagreements. A veteran may react strongly to loud noises or environments other people other people barely notice. A veteran May react strongly to sounds or environments other people barely notice. A survivor of emotional abuse may overexplain themselves constantly because they were conditioned to defend every feeling they've ever had. Someone who spent years in survival mode may struggle to relax even inside healthy relationships because peace itself feels unfamiliar. This is important. These reactions do not automatically make someone bad. Sometimes people are struggling with trauma, PTSD, burnout, grief, anxiety, depression, emotional exhaustion. And they need support, healing, accountability, and a safe place to just repair. Usually what we call out of character is really the person no longer matches the version your nervous system learned to accept. And that can happen in both directions. Sometimes people move from survival mode into healing and they become softer, calmer, more emotionally available. Other times people move from thriving into survival mode and suddenly they become distant, reactive, numb, irritable, defensive, or just emotionally not there. Yes, people change. Sometimes temporarily, sometimes permanently. Stress can temporarily shift behaviors through difficult seasons of life. Trauma can alter someone's reaction and make relationships feel unpredictable or emotionally unsafe. Sometimes it creates that feeling of walking on eggshells. Well, where everyone becomes hyper-aware of mood, tone, and tension. Burnout can shorten emotional capacity. People stop engaging deeply, they stop venting. They avoid emotional conversations because they genuinely do not have the energy to process more. To the people around them, it can feel like they are disappearing emotionally, becoming unavailable. Resentment changes the tone of relationships, affection can become sarcasm, support becomes bitterness, conversations become filled with comments like, must be nice. Mental health struggles that become unmanaged can also affect connections deeply. Sometimes people need more than love and patience. Sometimes they need real support, treatment, accountability, boundaries, or professional help alongside compassion. Eventually, we all have to ask the difficult question that can surface when we're dealing with these dynamics. What happens when this is no longer a season? What happens when it stops feeling temporary? What happens when the shift becomes the relationship itself? And we start asking the question: is this even worth it anymore? Because one bad day does not equal instability. One hard season does not erase a person's character. The concerns begin when the behavior becomes the pattern, when unpredictability becomes the expectation, when the relationship slowly turns into emotional survival instead of connection. When you feel like I am just surviving them, that's not a good sign for you. Sometimes the hardest part is realizing the relationship is no longer struggling because of one event. It was fundamentally changed. Three, two, one. It has fundamentally changed its dynamic. What once felt fulfilling, grounding, or emotionally safe can begin feeling exhausting, chaotic, and even frightening. Not because people aren't allowed to change, because stability matters too. This is why the idea of 80-20 in relationships really matters. When you look back on a relationship overall in the good days, do the good outweigh the bad days? I look at this all the time with my own relationships when I'm struggling and I have to remind myself, I look back and I say, this is just one bad day. This is out of character. I feel calm most of the time. And that is good enough. Because healthy dynamics, the good should genuinely three, two, one, the good should generally outweigh the difficult moments. Not because relationships are perfect, because stability matters. A healthy relationship feels about 80% emotionally recognizable. You know the person, you understand the rhythm of the relationship, you feel mostly safe, grounded, connected. The remaining 20% leaves room for being human. Growth, bad moods, stress, life changes, miscommunication, imperfection three, two, one, imperfections, individuality, flexibility, three, two, one. Flexibility is important because people are not machines. We all go through seasons where we struggle more than usual. Sometimes relationships naturally fluctuate. The 70-30 seasons may still be manageable. It may feel three, two, one. Putting my foot down. Ugh, getting comfortable. It may feel stressful or emotionally draining at times. Still repairable with communication, effort, and care. 6040 often feels a little heavier. You may notice someone needing more recovery time, more emotional space. Let's record that. Three, two, one. Sixty forty often feels heavier. You may notice yourself needing more recovery time, more emotional space, or more reassurance just to feel regulated again. When relationships begin to feel 50-50, ⁓ my goodness, the emotional safety, the emotional stability feels equally balanced, I guess. But this is usually when the problems start. Many people start living in this constant state of tension. They're holding their breath. At some point, you stop feeling grounded. You start overanalyzing conversations. You're reading into tone changes, you're becoming hyper vigilant, moderates before you speak, losing spontaneity because stability starts feeling more important than authenticity. And over time, something even more painful can happen. You stop trusting your own perception, especially when people constantly dismiss your concerns, minimize your feelings. Or refuse to make room for your emotional realities. You start wondering, am I overreacting? Is this really happening? Is it all in my head? Sometimes your nervous system is noticing real shift. One of the hardest parts is this. Sometimes it's incredibly painful to walk away from relationships that changed us in meaningful ways. Often we don't just miss the person, we miss who we were with them. We miss the version of ourselves that felt more alive, more hopeful, more connected, more open. And because of that, we become attached to the memory of who that person used to be and who they once brought out of us. And who three, two, one, or who they brought out in us. Sometimes healing means realizing something important. They did not create all the good qualities inside of you. They were already there. They may have helped reveal them, encourage them, made more space for them for time. Made space for them for a time. They may have helped reveal them, encouraged them, made space for them for a time. You were already capable of being that person. And it's hard because you're like, well, how do I do it again? You can, because it was already there. Sometimes the relationships we hold on to are less about becoming someone entirely new and more about discovering parts of ourselves we didn't know were there yet. When relationships become unpredictable, many people start. Compensating by overfunctioning. I've definitely been there feeling like if I just did this, if I did that, if I said the right thing, if I perform well enough, then maybe I'll finally feel good enough. Maybe they will create space for me so I can be me. Maybe they won't leave me. And it's a hard place to be in. For a while, that strategy can look functional from the outside. You become accommodating, helpful, flexible, low maintenance, easygoing. And underneath it all, it's really just fear. Four years of my fertility treatments, alongside nearly a decade of emotional instability. Emotional abuse slowly burned me out. They started as a relationship that felt almost entirely good. Three, two, one. For me, what started was a relationship that felt mostly entirely good, but it slowly shifted. It went from a hundred percent good timed to ninety ten to sixty forty to twenty percent of the time it was stabil stability. And the eighty times, I had no idea what was gonna happen. Because eventually the bad days were outweighing the good ones. And I just had to leave. It wasn't stable anymore. I was walking on eggshells constantly. I was enduring abuse and In a way, looking back, it's like they were mad at me for taking it too. Like they wanted me to leave. So I did. And there are times that I still am learning affection is like genuine affection can be safe, but it felt unsafe for quite a while. Something as simply something as simple as a hug could meet 'cause back back when I was in this relationship, sometimes a s a simple thing Something as simple as back when I was in this relationship with this person, something as simple as a hug could be met with irritation, rejection, or emotional distance. And so when I stayed, I started monitoring my tone based on their mood. Too emotional, I was dramatic. Too excited, I was embarrassing. Too hurt, well, I was just being too much. And that changed me. The people who genuinely wanted to support me often couldn't reach me anymore during that time because I became so emotionally starred for connection that I stopped knowing how to express my feelings in healthy ways. And I would feel easily dismissed, easily rejected. I would hold everything in, stuff the feelings down, convince myself I was fine, until eventually I hit a breaking point and spilled everything all at once, over explaining, trauma dumping, apologizing, while trying to be understood at the same time. I started overcommitting myself in relationships, but then also losing my integrity in the process of it because I couldn't do all the things I would promise. And I'm still rebuilding that skill of not people pleasing and knowing my capacity. I minimized my own feelings to keep everyone else comfortable at that time. And the painful part by staying in that dynamic, sometimes the rare moments of safety ⁓ made me open up again, only to be told afterwards, wow. You're a lot. Hmm. And after hearing things like that enough times, you start internalizing it. Maybe I am too much. Maybe my needs are too big. Maybe my emotions make people leave. So I avoided conflict because I was terrified of losing relationships. I got good at white lice, good at pretending I was okay, good at becoming hyper independent because I had been conditioned to believe my needs were inconvenient. Eventually People the worst part of staying in these dynamics when people change or reveal themselves is you eventually stop asking people what you need because they had con they might have convinced you that your needs weren't valid, and then be confused when you f they be confused by the fact that you have needs at all. And people eventually Eventually people stopped asking me what I needed. And when people finally did ask again, I it felt uncomfortable. I felt so uncomfortable by tr expressing myself because I'm like, can I even trust this? Once you've expressed your three, two, one, because I had experienced enough instability to start wondering how long the kindness will last before it changes again. And I was suspicious of other people, people who had 80 20 stability with me, but they might have been mirroring my own emotions, honestly, because I was such a mess. There was no stability for me because I'm like holding my breath that I was probably more reactive to the people I was probably more reactive to people I actually felt safe with. That were actually giving mista giving me stability, but they also might have been mirroring the 20% of, ⁓ I don't know what to do. Even though if I would have just simply have said, Hey, I need help, these people would have supported me. Because during those dynamics, I had to learn you start asking yourself questions like, what version's gonna keep this relationship stable? How do I make myself easier to love? How do I stop people from leaving? And somewhere in all of that, you stop asking as much, you stop asking a much more important question. Is this relationship even healthy for me? Instead of accepting that the dynamic itself was hurting me, I poured more and more of myself trying to save it. Because I used excuses like, well. It's like I use excuses like depending on like ⁓ we're family or I've known them for this long eventually though. Had to accept that this dynamic itself was hurting me. I did. And I had to admit that there was nothing left to pour into myself or the people around me. I had nothing to give. And I had to recover from overgiving. And in the meantime, though, what I did instead was I'd use money to support people, give them favors, emotional labor. To feel valuable to people, being the helper, the provider, the person everyone could rely on. That slowly chipped at me though. And it became part of my identity for a while, though, to be fair. In the end, I had to face something difficult. No relationship is worth losing your identity over. And sometimes healing starts the moment you stop trying to earn stability from people who only offer it conditionally. And I wanna be clear, I don't judge people who stay in unhealthy relationships. I've experienced it. I had to heal the why behind it. Sometimes people stay because emotionally, financially, mentally socially sometimes people stay because emotionally, financially, mentally, or socially, it doesn't feel safe to leave. Leaving can cost people everything. Their routines, their stability, their homes, their identity, their community. And that one, community, that one hit me deep. For me, I had to start over completely in a lot of ways. During that time, I wasn't always easy to be around. I was emotionally overwhelmed. I was needy, overstimulated, overshared constantly, interrupted people because I was so starved to be heard, talking too fast. I was terrified of being abandoned. And when you spent years being told directly or indirectly that you're wants, that you're unwanted, you're difficult, you're embarrassing, you're too much. Those beliefs start attaching themselves to your identity. Part of me genuinely wondered if maybe they were right about me the whole time. Maybe it was the problem. Maybe somehow I deserved the way I was being treated. The hardest part about these dynamics is the remembering the good too. Because in the beginning, it wasn't bad. At first it felt exciting, fun, comforting. Chosen, special, loved. It's why people stay. Not because they're weak. Not because they're foolish. Because they remember the version of the relationship that once made them feel safe. When the relationship starts slipping from 80-20 into 50-50, those moments of warmth feel like hope. Like little breadcrumbs that make you think they're coming back. Things are getting better. Maybe this time will last. Another hard season comes, but then another hard season comes. Another emotional withdrawal, another conflict, another shift in tone. Suddenly you feel abandoned all over again. Sometimes you even begin to blame three, two, one. Sometimes you even become blamed for the other person's unhappiness, stress, or misfortune. And over time that creates this confusion. Because the goal post because the goalposts keep moving. You start thinking, if I could just communicate better, if I could be calmer, less emotional, if I achieve more, need less, maybe the relationship would finally feel stable again. And no matter how much you reshape yourself, it never quite fixes instability. In some relationships, you learn that you cannot outshine the other person without consequences. You cannot accidentally embarrass them. You cannot have needs at the wrong time, or then you become inconvenient and then you get punished for that. And you cannot fully relax. Eventually you start shrinking yourself prematurely. Eventually you start shrinking yourself preemptively to avoid punishment, react rejection, or emotional distance later. Painful realization for me was this. No matter how hard I tried, I still felt like a burden to me. When they finally said it out loud, I realized it was one of the first honest thing when they finally said it out loud that I was a burden to them. I realized that was the one honest thing they had told me in a long time. Because it is emotionally exhausting when someone's choosing their pain over the people trying to love them. Because it is emotionally exhausting when people because it three, two, one, because it is emotionally exhausting when someone chooses their pain over the people trying to love them. Especially when deep down they know the love being offered is healthier than they believe they deserved. Healing requires vulnerability. Trust, hope, and sometimes people become so committed to surviving their own pain that they stop believing goodness can exist without conditions attached to it. And that is why I think of Samwise's quote from Lord of the Rings. There's good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for. Because loving someone deeply can feel heartbreaking when you're willing to face the world besides them beside them. Three, two, one. Because loving someone deeply can feel heartbreaking when you're willing to face the world beside them and they would rather run from it. Sometimes metaphorically and sometimes literally. I thought if I could just solve the unpredictability, the relationship would feel safe again. I thought it had to be me. Maybe I was too intense, too emotional, too uncomfortable to fully love. I kept chipping pieces off of myself. I kept chipping pieces off myself, believing that eventually I would be enough. Healing taught me something different. You cannot earn stability by abandoning yourself. Relationships change over time. Change is normal, natural. Inevitable. People grow, priority shifts. Life happens. There will be difficult seasons in almost every relationship. Times where people are exhausted, grieving, overwhelmed, disconnected, or simply struggling to keep up with their life. Bad seasons are not always permanent. Sometimes people lose momentum. Sometimes relationships become stagnated before they become healthy again. Sometimes healing takes time. I think the deeper question is not, has this relationship changed? The reason is how are we the real question is, is how are we handling this change? Because healthy relationships are not defined by never struggling. They're defined, the real question is, how are we handling the change? Healthy relationships are not defined by never struggling. They're defined by how people move through struggles together. Can they take accountability without turning every conversation into your fault? Can they be honest? Can they take accountability? without turning every conversation into it being your fault? Can they be honest without forcing you to dig for the truth, decoding mixed signals, or catch the inconsistency yourself? Do they come up to you preemptively on their own without any needing three, two, one, without you needing to prompt them, and they just tell you the truth. That's important. Can they communicate their emotional capacity, boundaries, and needs openly instead of expecting you to constantly guess what's wrong? When harm happens, do they genuinely want to repair the relationship eventually? Or do they keep just wanting a reset button where everything gets ignored until the cycle repeats itself again? And hoping you forget about the conversation, and hoping you forget about the conversation. Do they make an effort to grow even imperfectly? And if you can't, three, two, one. If they can't meet you where you are anymore, and if they can't meet you where you are anymore, can they at least respect your right to keep moving forward in life? E can they at least respect your right to keep moving forward in life, even if it means the relationship changes or they get left behind for a time? Because growth changes, people, instability erodes trust. Those are not the same thing. Growth can deepen relationships. Instability slowly teaches instability slowly teaches people not to feel emotional not to feel emotionally safe anymore. Instability s slowly instability three, two, one. Instability slowly teaches people not to feel emotionally safe anymore. Sometimes one of the hardest things to admit is that we are not only grieving the person, we are grieving who we were with them. The versions of ourselves that laughed easier, trust more openly, felt more hopeful, more connected. Sometimes we hold on to relationships because we miss the version of ourselves so deeply that we confuse it for missing the relationship itself. Healing sometimes means realizing you are still capable of becoming that person again. In environments that no longer require you to abandon yourself to keep the connection alive. So Maybe acting at a character isn't always about someone suddenly becoming a completely different person. Maybe sometimes it's about pain, survival, burnout, trauma, fear, grief, resentment, emotional exhaustion. Sometimes people drift so far from emotional consistency that people turn around three, two, one, that the people around them no longer know where they stand. Sometimes the people going through it don't recognize it themselves either. Because life changes, relationships change, love changes people, pain changes too. The hardest part is learning the difference between someone going through a difficult season and a relationship becoming emotionally unsafe to s three, two, one. And a relationship becoming emotionally unsafe to stay inside for long term. Because one bad day is not instability. One hard year does not automatically erase a person's character. When unpredictable three, two, one, when unpredictability becomes the pattern, when confusion becomes the emotional baseline, when you are constantly shrinking, overex when you are constantly shrinking, overexplaining, monitoring moods, abandoning your needs, and trying to earn stability through performance, something inside of you starts changing too. You stop feeling grounded, you stop trusting your perspective, you stop knowing which version of yourself is real anymore. Eventually survival becomes your personality. You become hyper vigilant, hyper independent, emotionally exhausted, afraid to need people, afraid to trust kindness, afraid if you fully relax, that safety will disappear again. Maybe the real danger isn't only losing trust in them. Maybe it's the fact that you're losing trust in yourself. Because when relationships become unpredictable long enough, you stop recognizing your own character too. If you're staying alongside with the drama, it the drama trauma. You forget that you were never supposed to earn love by abandoning yourself. I'm gonna itch my ear. You forget that stability should not feel conditional, that honesty should not have to be dragged out of people, that care should not disappear the moment life becomes inconvenient. Maybe healing is not about becoming who you were before the relationship. Maybe healing is learning, maybe healing is learning how to carry forward the good parts of yourself you discovered along the way. Without carrying the instability that came with it. Even if someone helped three, two, one, even if someone helped bring out beautiful parts of you, those parts were always yours. Your softness was yours, your loyalty was yours, your hope was yours, and Your ability to love deeply was always yours. Maybe the goal is not to become hardened by heartbreak. Maybe the goal is to learn how to stay connected to yourself while you're also recognizing when a relationship no longer allows you to feel emotionally safe, emotionally honest, or emotionally seen. Because relationships are allowed to change. People are allowed to change. You should not have to disappear, though, in order to keep the relationship. Alive. Three, two, one. Thank you for listening to my Rambo's.