Repetition Can Reshape Your Life
The end goal is in the journey
A few weeks ago, I was in a virtual session with a young man in his late twenties.
He leaned back in his chair, frustrated, arms crossed as he said,
“I’ve been doing the work, but it’s like nothing is changing.”
He had been trying to unlearn years of people-pleasing and silence—patterns he picked up in a childhood where being "easy" and "agreeable" kept the peace.
Now, he was in a relationship where he was actively trying to speak up. He was setting boundaries, asking for what he needed, using all the language he’d practiced.
But after a recent disagreement with his partner, things felt just as tense as they used to.
He felt misunderstood.
Again.
And he looked at me through the screen and asked,
“What’s the point if it doesn’t work?”
I hear this question in different forms, from people in all kinds of healing processes:
What’s the point of trying to regulate your emotions if you still get triggered?
What’s the point of praying for peace if your anxiety keeps flaring up?
What’s the point of setting boundaries if people still push back?
Here’s what I told him—and what I remind myself, often:
Just because you didn’t get the outcome you wanted doesn’t mean the effort was wasted.
When it comes to healing, our brains don’t change because of a single “aha” moment.
They change because of repetition.
This is the nature of neuroplasticity—your brain’s ability to rewire itself based on what you consistently experience.
The more often you practice a new behavior—whether that’s speaking up, taking a deep breath before reacting, or choosing rest over overworking—the stronger the neural pathway for that behavior becomes.
It’s not unlike learning to play an instrument. You can’t expect one hour of practice to sound like a concert. But with time, your hands begin to move differently. More smoothly. More naturally. Because your brain is creating a new rhythm.
This young man thought nothing had changed because the situation felt familiar.
But the fact that he paused, reflected, and responded differently?
That was the change.
It just hadn’t fully bloomed yet.
This is the part of healing that can feel disorienting:
You’re doing something new, but the outcome looks old.
You’re making a different choice, but the other person still reacts the same.
You’re showing up with intention, but the discomfort still rushes in.
That’s not failure. That’s foundation.
Because repetition isn’t about perfection.
It’s about reinforcement.
Every time you respond with intention instead of reaction, your brain receives new evidence:
“This is safe. I don’t have to shut down or lash out. I can stay present.”
At first, that evidence doesn’t stick.
The old survival patterns are loud.
But over time—and only through time—your nervous system starts to believe you.
This is how the brain rewires.
This is how change becomes sustainable.
So if you’ve been trying—again and again—and wondering if it matters:
It does.
Even when the conversation doesn’t go well.
Even when you still feel the sting of a trigger.
Even when it looks like nothing changed.
You changed.
And eventually, the world around you will begin to respond to that change—because your nervous system will no longer be leading with fear, protection, or shutdown. It will be rooted in something deeper: safety, clarity, and trust.
Reflection Questions:
What’s one thing you’ve repeated that you’re tempted to call “pointless,” but might actually be planting seeds for growth?
How do you usually define progress—by what happens, or by how you show up?
Where are you learning to stay the course, even when it still feels uncertain?
With you in every steady step,
Kobe
My God, I needed to read this. 😭 Thank you!
Yes!