next time you walk into a room full of strangers, you’ll be glad you read this

What If Your Resistance Isn’t Something To Change or Fix?

Wow, did I feel resistance. 

From the moment the Zoom room opened for session one of the year-long facilitator training program I recently joined, resistance was like a drum banging around in my body. 

“Candy, nicotine, Kraft Dinner!,” a voice within me demanded. “Put a stop to this feeling!”  

In the chat, I watched with disdain as other participants shared how excited they were to be there, how much they were loving the session already, and how blessed they felt to be in the room. 

Blessed? 

I did not feel blessed at all. 

Internally I was subjecting myself to a full-on interrogation. “Are you sure you belong here? Is this worth six hours of your time every week for the next eight weeks? TARZAN, DID YOU JUST BLOW TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS FOR NO REASON?!”

You know this feeling, don’t you? There’s nowhere the drone of resistance is louder than when you walk into a room of strangers, especially if it’s a room you paid a lot of money to be in. Sometimes the resistance is so loud it drowns out all the other voices in the room. 

I don’t know who those people are who enter a room and feel an immediate sense of belonging but I am not one of them. 

It’s okay if you’re not either. 

True belonging happens slowly and thickens over time, after trust has been earned. After there has been both hurt and repair, both wins and losses. When trust has not been earned, that’s not belonging, that’s just hype. I wonder if those “instant belonging” people are just really starved for connection, and trying to earn it by fawning. Worst case scenario, it’s hero worship. 

I did my best to sit still and breathe through my resistance, participating when asked, folding my hands in my lap and letting my AI notetaker decide what was worth capturing. I munched on a carton of sour strawberry belts and congratulated myself for not checking email or disappearing into a Chrome browser. 

My heart led me to that room, and I chose to stay there, to trust that call, to stay curious and let the experience unfold.

After two grueling hours of sitting in the hot soup of my resistance, we were asked to set an intention for the next twelve months, and reflect on how we would know if we were embodying that intention. 

I will be patient and let this community earn my trust, I wrote in my journal. I will not steamroll my resistance and try to feel different. I will pay attention to my body and notice when my heart opens and my need for sugar and nicotine begins to soften. That’s how I will know that trust has entered the building. 

A while back I heard Kate Northrup say that when you meet resistance, you’re meeting a part of yourself that feels scared. I’m certain that’s true and that, sometimes, that’s the whole story.   

But I’m equally certain that resistance has wisdom. It’s worth spending time listening deeper to what that wisdom might be. 

Maybe you’re just scared. 

Maybe you really are in the wrong room. 

Maybe it’s something else. 

For me, it was a chance to notice how far I’ve come. I no longer jump into trusting people just because they have a lot of followers and money and other people say they’re great. My powers of discernment have never been sharper than they are today. After ten years of investing in coaching and training, my trust doesn’t come for free. 

I want to offer these words as a reminder to you next time you join a new community or find yourself in a room full of strangers. It’s okay to feel resistant. It doesn’t necessarily mean you have imposter syndrome, that you’re in a room with a bunch of wannabes who are not as smart as you , or whatever else you’re making it mean. 

Maybe it’s trying to tell you something. 

If that’s the case, it’s not for me to interpret what that something else might be. My invitation to you today is to listen deeper rather than trying to make the feeling go away. 

I’m willing to bet there’s unexpected wisdom there, just waiting to make itself known. 

When you find out what it is, I hope you’ll share the story with me.  

XOT