We’re often told to “just be yourself.”

Trite Pinterest quotes of the 2010s remind us to “be yourself because everyone else is already taken.” Cult classics like Mean Girls warn us of trying too hard to fit in, lest we derail our lives and become social pariahs. “She’s changed” isn’t a compliment.

But what does it mean to “be yourself”? And why is it so bad to want to change that? When should we change?

Functional Change

It’s hard to know how to “be yourself” when our definitions of ourselves are always shifting.

I've changed things about myself that I once thought were rooted in who I am.

Growing up, my room was almost always a mess. I liked it when it was clean, but that was rare. Clothes covered the floor more often than I'd like to admit. I accepted that I was "messy" and acted accordingly.

After college, I decided to change. I learned more about my ADHD and created systems to encourage good habits. I experimented with room setups, laundry hacks, and morning routines. It worked.

This type of change is what I call Functional Change. Functional Change is practical shifts in your habits and behaviors—creating a new organization system, or starting a new workout routine. While Functional Change doesn’t necessarily have to be good, this category houses what we consider standard self-improvement. On the surface, Functional Change may feel like small, inconsequential adjustments, but it can have a profound impact on how you live your daily life and eventually, your self-concept.

I was so excited by my new hacks and systems that I shared them on TikTok, the videos went viral, and in a few months I had over 150,000 followers. I spent hours reading through comments: "Are you sure you have ADHD? My ADHD could never" or "I'm too messy for this."

It was surprising. These people saw me as a “clean person.” Though I sometimes felt like I was playing the part of a “clean person,” somewhere along the way I had become that version of myself. So much so that these TikTok commenters assumed I couldn't relate to them.

There's something powerful in how we choose to identify ourselves. Seeing myself as messy had prevented me from making changes. I had let it become part of my identity without consciously choosing it.

Since then, I’ve used Functional Change to challenge more labels I’ve given myself. Each year, I think about what I tell myself I hate or "don't do" and question whether that's really true.

This year, it was running. I always said I wasn't a runner, that I didn't like it, that it was too hard.

For the last 6 months, I’ve been running 2-3 times a week. Now I can go out on a Saturday and run 10 miles. I never thought I could or would want to do that.

Our identities are often just what we tell ourselves over and over, decisions we make without realizing it. We can change them at any time.

Foundational Change

The second type of change is what I call Foundational Change. This involves deeper shifts in your personality or values that directly influence who you are at your core.

Let’s say you’d like to be more thoughtful. You make an effort to be more present with your friends, listen more closely, check in on them, and remember birthdays. You eventually change yourself to be more thoughtful, a trait many consider to be a part of someone’s personality.

Like Functional Change, Foundational Change doesn’t necessarily have to be good, but it’s rare that someone sets out with the goal of becoming meaner or cynical or rude. Foundational Change is acceptable when it involves traits like thoughtfulness that everyone can get behind. It gets thorny when it involves traits like charisma.

People bristle with certain Foundational Changes, while they're okay with others. Telling everyone you’re trying to be more thoughtful would elicit a very different reaction than telling people you’re trying to be more charismatic. The former would likely get encouragement while the latter might receive the classic “just be yourself.”

The distaste for certain kinds of Foundational Changes stems from a fear of manipulation. When someone says they want to be more considerate, it feels selfless and genuine. But trying to become more charismatic can seem like you’re wanting to shape people’s perceptions for a specific advantage or control, which raises suspicion.

The irony is that most of what we do—whether that’s becoming more thoughtful or more charismatic—is driven by a desire to improve our lives in some way, to be loved a little more.

Changing Yourself for Others

Both Functional and Foundational Change can be motivated by a desire to live a more values-aligned life. Yet change is often met with skepticism—are you changing for yourself or for others?

Changing for yourself is seen as righteous, determined. Changing for others is weak, desperate.

But are we ever truly changing just for ourselves? We are inherently social creatures. Maslow’s hierarchy places social belonging before self-actualization. Much of our self-worth is derived from how others see us. It’s hard to imagine thinking of yourself as a caring, virtuous person if no one you’ve ever met thinks that you are.

Changing for others can be healthy, necessary even.

If you’re a bad texter and your friends ask you to be better with responding, employing Functional Change to fix this habit will likely improve your friendships.

If you know someone judgmental and rude who struggles to make friends, should they stay true to themselves and hope to stumble upon some friends? They’d likely be better served exercising Foundational Change to become kinder and attract quality friendships.

Few would say they’re against someone trying to become kinder. Yet some might label this Foundational Change in the pursuit of friendship as inauthentic, manipulative even.

I see this resistance to changing yourself for others the most when it comes to dating. Common dating advice often preaches, "Don't change for someone else; the right person will come." Is this wisdom or platitude?

We tell people to simply wait for the right person, to wait for luck to strike them. But what if there are self-improvements that would dramatically improve your odds of finding fulfilling connection? If becoming a better listener helps you have better dates and relationships, I’d consider that a worthwhile change. It’s hard for us to admit that certain traits likely do make it easier to find connection and love.

I think the discomfort with changing yourself for others stems from our desire for unconditional acceptance, reminiscent of parental love. We label this behavior as inauthentic because it’s scary to think that most relationships are conditional. People choose to be a part of your life and they can leave at any time.

When Should You Change?

I’ve gone to parties or been on dates where afterward I wished I hadn’t talked so much, overshared, or been so earnest. It could be true that if I worked on these traits, I'd be more likable.

“Messy” or “Not a Runner” are labels I left behind and don’t miss. But what if I changed “talks too much”? Would I lose some essential part of myself?

Improvement is subjective. My idea of improved charisma can come off to someone else as worse charisma. This is where the advice not to change yourself has some truth. One person might see someone who shares too much as annoying, while another might crave that level of intimacy.

I used to feel more of a desire to change myself. As I’ve built a more vibrant, grounding life, the less I feel that urge. I look around at my friendships, at my work, at the little rituals I didn’t notice myself forming, and I think: something in me made this happen.

In the past few years, my friendships have deepened and I’ve done work I’m truly proud of. And with that love and pride comes hesitation. If I shared less, would my friends feel further away? If I held back, would I be successful at work? Changing myself carries risks, consequences. I’ve got something to lose.

It’s important to have things that tether you. When you have something real on the line, you think twice. Changing yourself becomes more deliberate and aligned with what you really value because the gamble feels bigger.

It’s no wonder kids and teenagers change themselves so easily. Many haven’t yet found what tethers them. Friendships are fluid. Work is hypothetical. Romantic love is a story they’ve read about, but not yet lived. When nothing holds you, everything feels up for grabs.

I think the healthiest framework to changing yourself is to first find things that tether you. Once you have these in place, you have better guardrails for assessing when and how much you should change yourself. You’re better able to determine whether the change to yourself is values-aligned and less likely to lose yourself in change.

We can and should change ourselves if we feel it will move us closer to living our values and personal fulfillment, even if that’s seeking relationships. We have to accept, however, that there's no way to determine the outcome of these changes, especially when it involves other people.

You might be able to start running and run a marathon, but you can also change everything about yourself and still not get someone to love you. Changing yourself is in a lot of ways about seeking control in a chaotic existence. There’s something romantic about love being just beyond it’s reach.