Why You’re Tired: You Keep Trying to Earn What Should Be Given Freely

The truth is, we outgrow those who aren’t genuine with us.

Those who say things they don’t mean.

Those who talk the talk but can’t walk the walk when we need them beside us.

Those who only like a certain side of us but don’t want to accept all other sides.

This is something I’ve carried for years. The idea that if I could just find the perfect combination—more helpful, more calm, more dazzling, more thoughtful—then I’d finally be safe. Chosen. Loved.

But that moment didn’t come— in part because I had so much trouble fully loving myself.

And also, because love that’s built on performance can’t be trusted.

And when you’ve been trained to earn your place, rest will always feel like a risk. And this is where most people get stuck.

So, if this feels familiar, you’re not imagining it. But consider this — You’re changing.

You’re outgrowing what your mask once attracted.

The friendships built on you being agreeable.

The relationships that required you to shrink to be loved.

The dynamics that only worked when you stayed quiet, digestible, pleasing.

As Mark Manson said recently, “Good relationships get better with work. Bad relationships need constant work just to stay the same. The trick is knowing which kind of relationship you’re working on.”

Letting go of the patterns that are not working can feel like grief — and if you’re anything like me, grief is something you can actively avoid, much to your detriment. Those feelings don’t go anywhere, but begin to live in your body, and take hold of you energetically.

You’re not just feeling grief over losing people.

It’s grief over how much of yourself you gave away trying to keep them.

Because the truth is: you were never meant to shape-shift for love — but it’s probably something you learned to perfect in childhood, and it became such a part of your life, that you’re not even conscious of it anymore.

Now, you might be asking:

“Am I doing enough?”

“Did I misread the moment?”

“Is there more I could’ve done?”

But those questions come from an old script. One where love was conditional, and survival meant performing.

When I talk about performing in this context, I mean:

  • Acting like you’re okay when you’re not

  • Saying yes when you want to say no

  • Being “the strong one” or “the calm one” even when you’re struggling inside

  • Hiding parts of yourself to be more liked, accepted, or chosen

  • Adjusting who you are depending on who you’re with

  • Trying to earn love or approval by being useful, impressive, agreeable, or low-maintenance

In short: performing means shaping yourself around what you think others want — rather than showing up as who you really are.

It’s not lying or being fake. It’s survival.

It’s a learned behavior from environments where being your full self didn’t feel safe or welcome, and for most of us, that started in early childhood when our subconscious was forming.

It becomes so second nature that we don’t even notice we’re doing it — until we feel drained, disconnected, or unseen.

So, no, you’re not too much (but there’s a part of your personality that still feels guilty).

You’re just finally refusing to be less. That’s an incredible milestone to celebrate.

You’re not broken.

Your soul is remembering what it feels like to be whole.

Real love doesn’t ask you to rehearse.

It asks you to rest.

To exhale.

To come as you are — without strategy, without script.

If you’re not sure what you truly want, consider this from Brianna Wiest:

“If you do not know what you want, start with what you’re most afraid of.

You might not know what you desire, but absolutely everyone knows what scares them.

What is the opposite of that? What is the alternative outcome to your worst-case scenario?

What is the best possible outcome for the thing that scares you most?

That is what you want.

That is your true desire, masked behind layers of fear and resistance and conditioning.

That is your deep wanting, it has been there all along.”

You don’t have to earn what should be given freely.

Love. Rest. Belonging.

You were always worthy of those things.

Look for love. Open your heart and you will see miracles everywhere.

You deserve to rest.

You deserve to be loved—without having to perform for it.

Ingram’s Path | Subconscious Integration

For most of my life, I carried a quiet belief that if I worked hard, stayed composed, and did everything “right,” my life would eventually open into something meaningful. What I wanted wasn’t fame or perfection—I wanted impact. I wanted to help people feel understood, supported, and able to move through the world with a little more ease than they had before. That was always the dream, even when I didn’t feel anywhere close to it.

What I didn’t see at the time were the patterns running underneath my ambition. Early in my career, I stayed in environments that drained me because I believed I had to. When I spoke up, I wasn’t always supported. When things went wrong, I absorbed the blame. I kept ending up in the same dynamics—different cities, different jobs, different people, but the same emotional blueprint. Without understanding the nervous system or the subconscious, every setback felt personal. I didn’t know I was reenacting something much older.

The turning point wasn’t a sudden transformation. It was a slow unraveling of the belief that I had to survive what was hurting me. Therapy steadied me enough to breathe again. Coaching helped me expand. But learning the subconscious—how the body holds history, how patterns form, how safety is built—changed everything. RTT and trauma-informed work gave me language for what I had lived. They helped me understand why I stayed silent, why I braced, why I froze, and why I kept abandoning myself in moments that mattered.

As the emotional static quieted, I found my voice again—my actual voice, not the one shaped by survival. I became clearer, steadier, and more honest with myself. And I finally had the internal space to build a life that aligned with who I had always wanted to be.

If there’s a single truth I’ve taken from my own story, it’s this: our lives change the moment we stop trying to outthink our patterns and start understanding the history behind them. When the nervous system finally feels safe, clarity isn’t something you chase—it becomes the ground you stand on.

That’s the work I’m here to do. Not to create a new version of you, but to help you return to the one who has been waiting underneath the noise.

📍 Serving Clients Worldwide via Zoom

https://www.ingramspath.com
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That Old Urge to Prove Your Pain? It’s Not Failure—It’s Protection

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Why Looking Yourself in the Eye Might Be the Bravest Thing You Do This Week