What Is This Behavior Really Getting Me? Question Your Motivation Before You Question Yourself

NOTE: Hi Everyone! 

Just so we’re all on the same page, this article is part 3 of a 4-part series. Since each lesson builds upon what the previous article laid out, I hope you’ll go back to “Look for the Thread” (part 1), and “How Hidden Beliefs Shape the Way We See the World” (part 2) before moving forward. These can be found in the right-hand column of the BTBAB home page. 

We’ve spent some time looking for the threads.

We’ve considered how an experience can become an interpretation, how that interpretation can become a belief, and how that belief can quietly influence the lens through which we experience the world.

But there’s another layer we need to explore.

Because beliefs don’t simply sit quietly inside us.

They influence what we do.

They influence what we pursue, what we avoid, what we tolerate, what we fear—and sometimes, even the ways we try to change ourselves.

And this is where I want to ask you to become especially curious.

Not critical.

Curious.

Because the behavior itself doesn’t always tell us what’s happening underneath it.


Sometimes We Aren’t Even Consciously Aware of the Transaction

Human beings are remarkably good at learning what works.

When a particular behavior gets us something we want—or something we think we need—we’re more likely to repeat it.

Sometimes we aren’t even consciously aware of the transaction.

When I do this… I get that.

Maybe doing something perfectly gets you approval.

Maybe saying yes keeps the peace.

Maybe being needed makes you feel valuable.

Maybe staying busy keeps uncomfortable feelings at a distance.

Maybe looking a certain way gets you attention.

Maybe being independent protects you from having to need someone else.

Maybe accomplishing things helps you feel like you’re enough.

And eventually, the behavior can become automatic.

We stop asking why we’re doing it.

We simply think:

“That’s just who I am.”

But what if there’s more to the story?


What Does This Behavior GET Me?

This may be one of the most valuable questions we can ask ourselves.

Not:

“Why can’t I just stop doing this?”

But:

“What does this behavior GET me?”

Because if a behavior is repeatedly getting us something we need—or think we need—it’s going to be difficult to change simply by telling ourselves we should stop.

We have to understand the need underneath the behavior.

What does it provide?

Approval?

Attention?

Security?

Control?

Belonging?

Relief?

A sense of worth?

Protection from rejection?

Protection from disappointment?

Sometimes the answer may be uncomfortable.

That’s okay.

We’re not doing this inventory to prove that we’re secretly terrible people.

We’re trying to understand the map.

Because once we understand what a behavior has been accomplishing for us, we can begin asking whether we still need it to do that job.


Question Your Motivation

This is where things can get interesting.

We’re often far too quick to label behaviors as simply good or bad.

Exercise is good.

Eating well is good.

Working hard is good.

Setting boundaries is good.

Taking care of your appearance is good.

Pursuing a career is good.

Helping people is good.

Growing is good.

But the behavior itself doesn’t tell us everything.

Two people can do exactly the same thing for completely different reasons.

And that’s why we have to learn to look underneath the behavior.


Imagine Two Women Joining a Gym

One woman decides she’s going to get healthier.

She wants to exercise, take better care of her body, and become stronger.

That’s a good thing.

But another woman can walk into that exact same gym carrying a very different belief:

If I can just change my body enough, maybe I’ll finally be attractive enough.

Maybe then I’ll be chosen.

Maybe then someone will treat me the way I want to be treated.

From the outside?

They look exactly the same.

They’re both working out.

But underneath the behavior are two very different stories.

One is saying:

“I am already worthy, and I want to become healthier.”

The other is saying:

“Maybe if I become healthier, I will finally be worthy.”

And that distinction matters.

One is striving for worth.

The other is stewarding what she already believes has worth.

That’s why we’re not going to make a list of behaviors that are automatically healthy or unhealthy.

We’re going to learn to question our motivation.


Have I Made This Responsible for Telling Me Who I Am?

Here’s another question I want you to sit with:

Have I made this responsible for telling me who I am?

Have I made my appearance responsible for telling me whether I’m desirable?

Have I made my accomplishments responsible for telling me whether I’m successful?

Have I made someone else’s affection responsible for telling me whether I’m lovable?

Have I made being needed responsible for telling me whether I’m valuable?

Have I made my productivity responsible for telling me whether I’m worthy?

Because there’s a difference between stewarding something valuable and building your identity around it.

And that difference can be difficult to see when we’re standing inside the pattern.


Now, Take Inventory

Choose something you’re currently pursuing, changing, avoiding, or working hard to accomplish.

It doesn’t have to be something dramatic.

Choose something that makes you curious.

Then ask yourself:

What am I hoping this will give me?

Who am I hoping will notice?

What do I believe will change if I accomplish it?

What am I afraid will happen if I don’t?

And here’s one I really want you to consider:

If nobody ever knew I accomplished this, would I still want it?

The answer doesn’t have to be yes.

Wanting recognition doesn’t make you bad.

Wanting attention doesn’t make you shallow.

Wanting to be admired is human.

But your answer may tell you something about what role this goal is playing in your life.

And once again, we’re looking for the thread.


Go One Layer Deeper

Ask yourself:

Am I trying to change my circumstances—or prove something about myself?

Am I caring for myself—or trying to finally become worthy of care?

Am I moving toward health—or running away from shame?

Am I stewarding something valuable—or using it to build my identity?

And perhaps the simplest question of all:

Is this making me freer—or more dependent on the outcome?

Because healthy growth should ultimately create greater freedom.

Not necessarily an easier life.

Not necessarily fewer problems.

Not necessarily the outcome we hoped for.

But greater freedom in how we respond.


Your Transformation Cannot Control Someone Else

This may be one of the hardest truths in this entire conversation.

Healthy growth doesn’t give us control over other people’s choices.

You can become healthier and someone can still behave badly.

You can become more beautiful and someone can still reject you.

You can become more successful and someone can still envy you.

You can become more loving and someone can still be unkind.

You can communicate perfectly and someone can still misunderstand you.

Your transformation cannot be a bargain with someone else’s behavior.

Because otherwise, self-improvement can quietly become another form of magical thinking:

If I can just become enough, perhaps nobody will hurt me anymore.

But that’s not freedom.

That’s a cage with prettier wallpaper.


So What Are You Really Changing?

This is where I want us to pause.

Sometimes we’re changing because we’re genuinely growing.

And sometimes we’re changing because we’re desperately trying to escape the person we believe we are.

From the outside?

They can look identical.

But underneath them is a completely different message.

One says:

“I am already worthy, and I want to become healthier.”

The other says:

“Maybe if I become healthier, I will finally be worthy.”

So don’t just examine what you’re doing.

Examine what you’re hoping the doing will accomplish.

That’s where the deeper work begins.

Because transformation is beautiful.

Growth is beautiful.

Change is beautiful.

But transformation is healthiest when it flows from knowing your worth—not when it becomes an attempt to earn it.


Where This Leaves Us

We’re not finished unraveling the threads.

Not even close.

But perhaps you’re beginning to see why this investigation matters.

We started with an experience.

Then we looked at the interpretation.

Then the belief.

Then the lens through which we experience the world.

Now we’re beginning to see the patterns those beliefs can produce.

And once we can see the pattern…

we can begin asking an even harder question:

Does this thread still belong in the life I’m weaving?

That’s where we’re headed next.

Because sometimes a thread needs to be challenged.

Sometimes it needs to be pruned.

Sometimes it needs to be redirected.

And sometimes, perhaps, it needs to be redeemed.

But before we can decide what comes next, we have to be willing to see what we’ve been weaving.

And that’s the work we’re doing here.

Not becoming someone worthy.

Learning to live from the truth that we already are!

Until Next Time!

 

You Were Never Meant to Earn Your Worth

I heard a story recently that has stayed with me far longer than I expected.

A husband was trying to explain why he had been looking at provocative pictures of other women online. In an effort to reassure his wife that it “didn’t mean anything,” he reached for an analogy.

“It’s like going to a car show,” he said. “You can admire the Lamborghinis. It’s not like you’re ever going to buy one.”

His wife didn’t miss a beat.

“Maybe not,” she replied. “But if someone handed you the keys and offered you a free test drive… I’m pretty sure you’d take it.”

Silence.

I’ve thought about that conversation for days.

Not simply because of the analogy itself.

But because I couldn’t stop thinking about what it might feel like to be the wife sitting across from him.

To suddenly wonder…

“So… I’m the old car in the driveway?”

“I’m the one who has aged.”

“I’m the one who can’t compete anymore.”

And then I realized something.

This conversation isn’t really just about pictures.

It’s about something much deeper.

It’s about authority.

Who Gave Them the Authority to Label You?

Who gets to decide what makes someone valuable?

Because somewhere along the way, many of us quietly accepted a lie.

We began believing our worth was something to earn instead of something to remember.

If I can lose the weight…

If I can erase the wrinkles…

If I can afford the right clothes…

If I can look younger…

If I can become more successful…

If I can finally be chosen…

Then I’ll be enough.

But every time we reach the finish line, it quietly moves.

That’s the cruel genius of shame.

It never lets us arrive.

The number on the scale changes.

The standard changes.

The comparison changes.

The person we’re trying to impress changes.

And suddenly the thing we thought would finally make us feel secure leaves us standing at the beginning of the race all over again.

Because the finish line was never real.

It was built on a lie.

And if we trace that lie all the way back to the beginning, we find it waiting for us in a garden.

“Did God really say…?”

Those were the first words of doubt whispered over humanity.

Did God really say you are loved?

Did God really say you are enough?

Did God really say your identity comes from Him?

Or do you need something else?

Something more?

Something you can earn?

The enemy has been asking the same question ever since.

The lie isn’t that caring for ourselves is unimportant. It is important.

Our health matters.

Our bodies matter.

Our emotional and spiritual growth matter.

We are responsible for stewarding the life God has entrusted to us.

But there is a profound difference between caring for ourselves because we know we have value…

and trying to create value through self-improvement.

One is stewardship.

The other is striving.

One grows from identity.

The other is an attempt to earn it.

I think many of us need to ask a difficult question:

When did I start believing someone else had the authority to define what God had already declared?

When did I hand someone else the microphone?

When did my reflection become louder than my Creator?

When did another person’s approval become more powerful than God’s voice?

Culture grabs that microphone all the time.

It says:

“You’re valuable if you’re young enough.”

“If you’re beautiful enough.”

“If you’re successful enough.”

“If you’re desirable enough.”

Comparison grabs it too.

“Look at her.”

“Look what she has.”

“Look how easily she is chosen.”

The enemy grabs it.

“You’re only what you’ve done.”

“You’re only what happened to you.”

“You’re only your failures.”

And little by little…

we forget the voice that spoke first.

The voice that said:

“You are Mine.”

This is where responsibility matters.

Not because responsibility is heavy.

Because responsibility is hopeful.

If my identity depends entirely on someone else’s choices, then I am powerless.

But if part of healing involves reclaiming whose voice I listen to…

there is hope.

Real hope.

I cannot control another person’s character. 

But I can examine my own.

I can ask:

What lies have I believed?

What voices have I trusted?

Where have I abandoned myself?

Where have I allowed fear to lead me?

Those questions do not bring shame.

They bring freedom.

Because there is a difference between guilt and shame.

Guilt says:

“I did something wrong.”

Healthy guilt has movement.

It invites confession.

Repentance.

Growth.

Restoration.

Shame says:

“I am what’s wrong.”

Shame doesn’t correct behavior.

It attacks identity.

And then there is another burden many of us carry without realizing it:

False responsibility.

“If someone hurt me, it must somehow be because I wasn’t enough.”

Not pretty enough.

Not young enough.

Not exciting enough.

Not thin enough.

Not successful enough.

Not desirable enough.

The human heart has a remarkable ability to turn someone else’s sin into evidence against itself.

Someone lies…

“Look at how stupid I was for trusting them!” 

Someone leaves…

“I must not have been lovable.”

Someone chooses something else…

“I must not have been worth choosing.”

But that responsibility was never ours to carry.

Healthy responsibility sounds different:

“I cannot control another person’s character or their choices. 

But I can examine my own.”

Maybe the question isn’t:

“Why did they do this to me?”

Maybe the deeper question is:

“Why did I allow their choices to become a statement about my worth?”

Not because I caused their choices.

Not because their actions were acceptable.

Not because my pain isn’t real.

But because I have the opportunity to reclaim something that was never meant to be surrendered.

My identity.

Maybe that’s why so many people stay too long in places where their souls slowly disappear.

Not because they are weak.

Not because they don’t know better.

But because somewhere along the journey, being chosen became more important than remembering they already belonged.

We accepted scraps because we were afraid of losing the table.

We silenced ourselves because we feared being alone.

We shrank ourselves because rejection felt unbearable.

We confused being wanted with being worthy.

But those are not the same thing.

Friend, if another person’s choices have wounded you, let me say this gently:

Your pain is real.

It should hurt.

Love always leaves us vulnerable.

But someone else’s choices were never meant to become the measuring stick for your identity.

There is only One who has the authority to answer the question:

“Who are you?”

And He answered long before culture had an opinion.

Long before social media created impossible standards.

Long before age left its fingerprints on your face.

Long before anyone failed to see your beauty.

Long before another person’s brokenness tempted you to question your own worth.

You are not a product sitting on a showroom floor waiting to be compared.

You are God’s workmanship.

His masterpiece.

Ephesians 2:10 tells us:

“For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.”

A masterpiece does not compete with another masterpiece.

A one-of-a-kind creation does not become more valuable because someone notices it.

Its value comes from the One who created it.

Perhaps healing doesn’t begin when everyone else finally recognizes your worth.

Perhaps healing begins the moment you remember they never had the authority to define you.

So today, maybe ask yourself:

Whose voice have I been trusting to tell me who I am?

And maybe, just maybe…

it is time to take back the microphone.

Until Next Time— Keep Becoming!