I’ve been thinking a lot about how much our environment shapes who we become. I’ve moved quite a bit as an adult, between different parts of New York City and between coasts, so I know what it feels like to start over somewhere new. Each place seems to bring out a different version of us. We usually talk about growth as something that happens internally, but sometimes it’s worth asking: what if the environment itself is part of the problem?
When we’re struggling somewhere, we’re quick to assume we just need to get better at handling it. Be more patient. Be more adaptable. Be more resilient. And sometimes that’s true. Growth is uncomfortable, and not every hard situation means it’s time to leave. But being challenged is different from being chronically depleted.
I think about it like a plant. A healthy plant can still struggle in the wrong conditions. Maybe it isn’t getting enough sun, or the soil is off. You could spend all day telling it to try harder, but effort was never the problem. People can be like that, too.
We assume something is wrong with us when we aren’t thriving somewhere. We wonder why we aren’t happier or more confident, why we don’t feel like ourselves. But different environments bring out different parts of us. Some leave us feeling open and grounded. Others leave us guarded, constantly aware of how we’re being perceived.
Discomfort doesn’t automatically mean we’re in the wrong place, of course. Sometimes learning to communicate differently, or finding our way through something unfamiliar, is exactly what helps us grow. What matters is whether the discomfort is stretching us or asking us to shrink so we can belong.
An environment that challenges you to become more yourself is not the same as one that requires you to become less of yourself to feel accepted. When you’re constantly monitoring your behavior or suppressing your needs, that adaptation can become so familiar that you mistake it for your personality. You might think you’re naturally quiet or low-maintenance when really you’ve learned that expressing your needs comes with consequences.
This is also why leaving is so hard. We may have spent years trying to make something work, or imagined an entire future there, and walking away can feel like admitting the effort was wasted. But leaving doesn’t erase what we learned. Sometimes we find out what we need through belonging, and sometimes we find it out through contrast. You may not know what safety feels like until you land somewhere you no longer have to be on guard.
Part of growing up is realizing we aren’t meant to thrive everywhere. We won’t fit into every relationship, community, or version of life available to us. Sometimes the work is staying and nurturing what we have. Other times it’s admitting we’ve been spending too much energy convincing ourselves the soil is right when it simply isn’t.
Maybe the goal isn’t to become so resilient that we can survive anywhere. Maybe it’s noticing when we’re being asked to use that resilience unnecessarily. Sometimes growth means putting down deeper roots, and sometimes it means finding somewhere new to grow. Knowing which one you’re in is the hard part.
