Tired of Needing to Adapt to People Who Do Not Change

The Weary Heart #22

Sep 22, 2025

Salam Friends,

Without realising, many of us spend so much of our lives adjusting ourselves to accommodate other people’s unchanged behaviours. You bend, you compromise, and you let things slide. Why? Because you’re told, “That’s just how they are.”

But isn’t it exhausting to keep shrinking yourself so someone else can stay comfortable, to walk on eggshells while the other person stomps around freely? This is not patience or maturity. Even if the world tells you so. It is survival, and trying not to “rock the boat”. And survival is not the same as living.

The Silent Exhaustion

There is a kind of fatigue that doesn’t come from late nights at work or long runs under the sun. It comes from constantly adapting your spirit to fit someone else’s broken patterns.

You know the feeling: the exhaustion of smiling when you’re not okay, of swallowing words that deserve to be spoken, of dimming your light so you won’t outshine someone insecure.

Over time, it doesn’t just drain your energy - it erodes your sense of self.

You begin to wonder, “Maybe I’m too much. Maybe I expect too much. Maybe this is just life.” But deep down you know it’s not. What you are experiencing is not life as it should be. It is life lived under the weight of someone else’s refusal to change.

We often call this patience. And yes, Islam teaches us sabr, yet sabr does not mean allowing yourself to be taken advantaged of over and over again. There is a thin line between being patient with someone’s shortcomings and enabling their refusal to grow.

Many of you may heard of this verse before, where Allah says:

“Indeed, Allah does not change the condition of a people until they change what is in themselves.”
(Surah Ar-Ra’d 13:11)

If Allah Himself makes change dependent on personal effort, why do we keep believing it is our duty to endlessly adjust ourselves around those unwilling to move?

Curious: Why Do We Keep Adapting?

Part of the reason is fear. Fear of confrontation, fear of being judged as ungrateful, fear of losing the relationship altogether.

And part of it is hope. Hope that maybe silence will inspire them to reflect, maybe love will be enough, maybe this time they’ll notice.

But hope without boundaries becomes self-destruction. Because the truth is, you cannot control whether someone changes. You can inspire, advise, and pray. But you cannot crawl into their soul and rewire it. You cannot force an apology out of stubborn lips or extract empathy from a hardened heart. Every time you try, you only wound yourself deeper.

This is where we confuse love with control. Love doesn’t mean reshaping yourself endlessly so someone else never has to face their own reflection. Sometimes love means holding up that mirror and saying,

“This is how your actions affect me. This is what I need - to feel safe here.”

It’s not about blame or guilt-tripping. It’s about clarity. And if they refuse to see it, then stepping back isn’t giving up on them, it’s refusing to give up on yourself.

Think of the parent who always criticises, no matter what you do. You keep adjusting, lowering your voice, explaining yourself, hoping they’ll one day soften. But they don’t.

Or the colleague who talks over you in meetings and takes credit for your work. You adapt by staying quiet, by working harder to “prove yourself.” But it never ends.

Or the spouse who never apologises. You adapt by forgiving silently, convincing yourself, “At least they’re good in other ways.” But deep down, you know you’ve allowed them to cross the line and disrespect you far too many times.

These scenarios are familiar not because they happen in one home or one workplace, but because they repeat themselves everywhere. They remind us that this is not an isolated struggle, it is a universal one. And the fatigue of endlessly adjusting is suffocating.

When God Wants You to Change

Here’s a thought I keep coming back to.

Maybe the reason why the people around us don’t change is because Allah intended them to be in your life for a specific purpose. Maybe their stubbornness, their behaviour, their recurring flaws are not just a test of patience - but a platform and an opportunity for our own growth.

Even if you moved away from them and joined another circle of friends, colleagues, or relatives, you might notice that the same kinds of tests follow you. Different faces, different names - but the same lessons being repeated. Why? Because Allah is teaching you.

He wants you to develop. He wants you to be better.

To build resilience, compassion, clarity, or courage. To grow abilities you didn’t know you had or needed. To refine your character so you are more patient, more discerning, more principled, or more forgiving.

Look at the story of Prophet Musa (AS) and Pharaoh. Pharaoh never changed. He remained arrogant until the very end. But Musa’s tests with him were not wasted — they shaped Musa into a leader with unshakable reliance on Allah. His courage grew as he stood before tyranny. His patience deepened as his own people wavered in faith. The test wasn’t designed to change Pharaoh; it was designed to elevate Musa.

Or think of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ with Abu Jahl. Abu Jahl refused every call, mocked every sign, and hardened his heart until his death. But through that struggle, the Prophet ﷺ developed resilience, unwavering clarity of message, and a heart that remained merciful even in the face of cruelty.

Sometimes the people who refuse to change are not meant to be the ones transformed. Instead, they are the sandpaper Allah places in your life - rough, abrasive, uncomfortable - but shaping you into something smoother, stronger, and more refined.

So maybe the right question is not, “Why won’t they change?” but rather, “What is Allah asking me to change through this experience?”

When you begin to see life this way, frustration turns into purpose. Disappointments become lessons. And recurring patterns stop feeling like punishments. Instead, they become training grounds for your soul.

The Courage to Stop Adapting

It takes courage to finally say, “I will no longer keep adjusting to someone unwilling to move an inch.” It takes strength to say, “I deserve peace too.” And it takes faith to remember that when Allah closes one door, He opens another, and when He removes someone from your life, He may be protecting you from a future you cannot yet see.

This is where boundaries come in. Boundaries are not betrayal. Saying “no” is not rejection. Refusing to adapt endlessly is not arrogance. It is self-respect. It is protecting the amanah of your heart.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

“The strong one is not the one who can overpower others in wrestling. The strong is the one who controls himself when he is angry.”
(Sahih al-Bukhari, Sahih Muslim)

Strength is not silence. Strength is knowing when to speak, when to draw a line, and when to walk away.

So maybe the prayer you need today is not for them to change, but for yourself:

Ya Allah, I release the burden of trying to fix what only You can fix. Grant me patience without losing myself, wisdom to know when to stay, and courage to know when to walk away.

Friends, life is much too short for us to spend it walking on eggshells, too precious to keep bending until you break. Change is their responsibility. Peace is yours.

And maybe the real shift you need is not in them, but in yourself - to stop carrying what was never yours to carry, and to embrace the growth Allah has been writing into your story all along.

God bless,

Mizi Wahid