Loose Guide: Why the more you try to change, the more you stay the same
An introduction to The Paradoxical Theory of Change
Loose Guides are where I share insights from coaching psychology—aka stuff I think they should teach us in schools. They’re called loose guides because while I am an EMCC-accredited transformative coach who invests heavily in Continuing Professional Development, I don’t a) claim to be an expert on the topics I cover (I’m not a therapist or psychologist) or b) dish out prescriptive advice. My invitation is to hold perspectives lightly, take or leave what does/doesn’t resonate, and feel free to point out any mistakes I’ve made if you are an expert!
A few months ago, I gave away ten free coaching sessions to freelancers and business owners who were struggling with the uncertainty of self-employment.
Nearly all of them came to our session wanting to hear my opinions, experiences, and advice: on how to sign more clients, get more done, or be more confident.
I completely understood their curiosity; charting your own path can feel like shooting in the dark, and we need our guides and mentors. But…I didn’t give them what they wanted.
Firstly, because I’m a coach, not a mentor—I don’t advise, teach, or pretend I have all the answers. And secondly, because I knew from experience that deferring to my authority wasn’t what they needed.
Often, the real “secret” to self-employment is to stop chasing a reality where we have it all figured out, systems that are “bulletproof”, or a ballsier version of ourselves that does cold emails, viral LinkedIn posts, and TED Talks without so much as a shiver of self-doubt.
These are the dreams that entrepreneurship culture (which is really just a subcategory of self-improvement culture) sells us—whether it’s via a business course, a life coaching programme, or even a Substack. But if we subscribe too wholeheartedly to other people’s methods and instructions, it can be a form of spiritual bypassing: we learn the the cure, but we don’t necessarily heal the wound.
For example, imagine someone who feels directionless and burnt out, which is taking a toll on their business. Instead of sitting with those feelings, they sign up for a productivity course that promises to “10x their output”. It feels like progress—they’re doing something. But if the deeper issue is that they feel disconnected from their purpose, or they don’t believe they’re worthy of rest, a colour-coded calendar isn’t going to stop them from burning out—again, and again.
That’s why, rather than providing the answers, the crux of my work is to help my clients get to know themselves as they are, then start to see things differently: to confront what’s really getting in the way, to reframe a story that’s holding them back, to open up new perspectives.
Over time, this can lead to profound change. But I’ll let you in on a secret: we don’t get there by trying to change. And that funny little paradox not only underpins my coaching practice, but explains why self-improvement culture so often fails us…
Introducing the Paradoxical Theory of Change:
“Change occurs when we become what we are, not when we try to become what we are not.”*
*Paraphrased from gestalt.org.
The Paradoxical Theory of Change, coined by psychiatrist Arnold Beisser, comes from Gestalt Therapy—a psychotherapy approach that emphasises focusing on present experiences and taking responsibility for one’s feelings and actions.
From studying the work of Fritz Perls, who developed Gestalt alongside Paul Goodman and his wife Laura Perls (let us always remember the wives!!!), Beisser noticed a common thread running through nearly all Gestalt techniques.
He called it the Paradoxical Theory of Change because of its inherent irony. Essentially, the idea is that the harder we try to force change—whether in ourselves or others—the less “successful” we will be.
Paradoxically, when we accept our present reality, and ourselves as we are, that’s when genuine change becomes possible.
The Paradoxical Theory of Change in action
September is a good time to talk about the Paradoxical Theory of Change. Much like New Year, it has lots of us in a psychological chokehold—we get all nostalgic for new pencil cases and visits to Clarks, and decide ‘tis the season to become an entirely new person.
The thing is, 80% of us are said to abandon our New Year’s resolutions before we’ve even polished off the Christmas chocolates. Precisely because we are trying to become an entirely new person—and usually, this just isn’t realistic, healthy, or possible, especially in a short amount of time.
Let me use myself as an example. Back in my twenties, I was trying to find love. Only I never let anyone I was dating cotton onto that.
I had absorbed the cultural myth that dating is a game to be played; one where the winners don’t reply too quickly, put all of their eggs in one basket, or (god forbid) seem too keen. And so I played the role of the cool girl, keeping it easy and breezy so as not to startle anyone with my basic need for connection.
Unsurprisingly, this strategy royally backfired, time and time again. I could only keep up the cool girl facade for so long, then I would tentatively suggest that maybe we should talk about “where things were” seeing as we’d been spending four nights a week together for three months, gone on a romantic holiday, and met all of each other’s friends.
Aghast at my true colours, the men would pull back. I’d cling harder—both to the relationship, and the romcom-induced fantasy that all men are just a bit commitment-phobic and will get there eventually. It would all end in tears.
Now, there’s lots going on here: attachment styles, self-worth wounds, societal conditioning, etc. But I also think it’s a good example of the Paradoxical Theory of Change:
a) I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t, rather than embracing and expressing who I really am (a big, soppy, hopeful romantic).
b) I was also trying to force change on the people I was dating, even when they very clearly and categorically told me they did not want a relationship.
The harder I tried to change the both of us, the more stuck, even set back, I was. I’d go round and round in the same cycles of disappointment and heartache.
It was only when I truly faced myself (warts, anxious attachment style, and all), and fully owned who I was and what I wanted, that I finally met my partner. And the best thing about falling in love with him was that neither of us had to try—it just happened, beautifully and organically.
The key principles of the Paradoxical Theory of Change
OK, enough soppy romance. If you want the hard, psychological facts, here are three key principles of the Paradoxical Theory of Change, as I see it:
The “topdog vs. underdog” dynamic.
As I spoke about in last month’s Loose Guide, we tend to get stuck when we are experiencing inner conflict, i.e. different parts of us want different things.
In Gestalt Therapy, this is referred to as the “topdog/underdog” dichotomy:
The topdog is the voice that tells us what we should be (a bit taller, a baller, etc.)
The underdog is the part that feels pressured and resorts to stroppy, rebellious behaviour (“You can’t make me!”)
The more the topdog tries to force change on the underdog, the more the underdog resists—and so round and round we go.
This dynamic can exist internally, but also in therapy or coaching if the professional takes on the role of the expert who knows best (think: bearded psychoanalyst and his Freudian couch) and the client looks to them for authority and approval.
Practitioners like me don’t think this is the most effective way to bring about growth for our clients, as it can lead to codependency, superficial compliance (we may nod along to what our practitioner is saying, but not feel intrinsically motivated), and even shame.
Instead, we take a human-centred approach, where coach and client work together, as equals. And we don’t strive to change those inner parts—we give them attention and acceptance.
A working assumption of wholeness.
Much like Internal Family Systems therapy (which integrates a lot of concepts and techniques from Gestalt Therapy), the Paradoxical Theory of Change begins with the assumption that we are whole, not broken or lacking.
That’s not to say there’s anything wrong with valuing and seeking personal growth. We’re just not doing it from a place of believing we’re not good enough. Instead, we acknowledge that we are a real, complex person moving through life’s rich and varied experiences, not a machine that needs fixing.
Change as an unfolding process (without a fast-forward button!).
Finally, we recognise change as a process, not a one-and-done solution.
Gestalt Therapy says that in order to heal and grow, we must fully experience our struggles and blocks, rather than trying to skip to the good bit when we’re all shiny and new. This means really meeting ourselves in the present moment, and continuing to do so, because we are always changing and evolving.
For example, while my relationship has been (and continues to be) a very healing experience for me, it has not erased my anxious attachment style. Those parts, although softer, are still very much there. And I still bear scars from past heartbreaks. I need to keep meeting those parts and scars with compassion (especially when I find myself asking my boyfriend whether he’d still love me as a worm).
Change, for me, is an ongoing, unfolding process that I experience, rather than a destination I arrive at. Healing is a patchwork, not a straight line.
Why does it matter?
It’s important to remember that none of this is in conflict with the desire to grow—it’s okay to feel like there’s more to life than what you’re currently experiencing, and want to do something about it.
Gestalt simply stresses the importance of self-awareness, and then self-acceptance, as the gateway to growth, rather than shaming ourselves for who we are—or more accurately, who we are not.
As if by osmosis, this is when the real change tends to unfold. Because when we deepen our self-awareness, we also recognise that we have choice: we don’t have to let our parts take over, we don’t have to let cultural narratives define our relationships, and we don’t have to try to control others.
Crucially, Beisser makes a case for the relevance of this theory in the modern world, pointing out that it took a long time for psychiatric and psychological establishments to accept Gestalt Therapy:
“What has happened in the past fifty years to make this change theory, implicit in Perls's work, acceptable, current, and valuable? Perls's assumptions have not changed, but society has. For the first time in the history of mankind, man finds himself in a position where, rather than needing to adapt himself to an existing order, he must be able to adapt himself to a series of changing orders. For the first time in the history of mankind, the length of the individual life span is greater than the length of time necessary for major social and cultural change to take place. Moreover, the rapidity with which this change occurs is accelerating.”
In other words, it’s futile to keep looking for solutions in a world that’s constantly changing; we’re better off becoming fluent in the process of change itself.
Taking it back to my self-employed clients, I could tell them all the ways I’ve won clients over the course of my freelance career. But because the landscape has changed so much since I started (AI, economic instability, increased competition), a lot of those tactics have become redundant.
Really, the best investment they can make isn’t in formulas or shortcuts—it’s in self-knowledge. The strongest insurance they can give themselves is the capacity to adapt.
It seems to me that those are pretty good lessons for life, too. And that’s the most “advice” you’ll get from me 😉
With thanks to The Gestalt Therapy Page for background material, and to the wonderful coaches at Famn, who first introduced me to this concept.
Work with me: 1:1 coaching
If you’ve identified with any of these challenges and are curious to explore these perspectives further, I’m an accredited coach who works with:
Recovering high achievers at a Crossroads in their lives and careers
Independent spirits who need a Sounding Board to navigate the rollercoaster ride of self-employment
Drop me a message or book a call if you’d like to chat.
Enjoying these insights?
I started Loose Guides as a way to share all my nerdy coaching psychology study—because a) I wish I’d learned all of this stuff in school instead of algebra, and b) I know not everyone can afford 1:1 coaching or therapy.
As I meet more of you lovely subscribers, I’ve been thinking about how to provide a more intimate and regular level of support that’s still accessible. So soon, I’m going to be opening the doors to the Messy Club subscriber chat.
Drawing from my experience as a coach, writer, and lifelong student, I’ll be providing fortnightly journalling prompts to help you do your own messy work.
If that sounds like something you’d value, watch this space—I’ll be sharing more soon.
About Messy Work
Messy Work is a monthly ‘magazine’ for deep thinkers, big feelers, and more-to-lifers. Once a month, I pop by with a Messy Essay, a Loose Guide, and Ideas People. The rest of the month, I’ll leave you and your inbox alone.