Standing in the Rain

Some people stand in the rain with an umbrella in their hand and still get soaked.

Not because they don’t know better.
Not because they weren’t warned.
Not because they forgot.

But because some part of them doesn’t believe they’re supposed to be wet.
And another part doesn’t believe the umbrella should be necessary.

They see the tools.
They hear the advice.
They might even agree with it.
But it doesn’t feel like it’s for them.

“That works for other people.”
“I’ve tried that before.”
“I’m just wired differently.”

This isn’t ignorance.
It’s a form of quiet resistance.
A story that protects you from change by convincing you you’re the exception.

I call it False Exemption—the belief that you are the outlier in a world of people who can grow.

And once you’ve seen it in yourself, you start to see it in others. Everywhere.

In leadership: the teammate who hears the feedback, thanks you, and walks back into the same trap.
In coaching: the athlete who nods along but never adjusts.
In life: the person who’s read all the books and still says, “I know, I know—I just haven’t done it yet.”

They don’t need more awareness.
They don’t need another strategy.
They need to confront the harder truth: they don’t believe the change applies to them.

Sometimes staying stuck feels safer than what growth would require:
– Letting go of a story you’ve used to survive
– Being wrong about who you thought you were
– Facing the discomfort of actually getting better
– Accepting that the rain isn’t going to stop just because you don’t like getting wet

Some people don’t just resist the umbrella.
They resent the weather.

“Why is this happening to me?”
“I don’t want to get wet—but I shouldn’t have to carry this damn umbrella just to stay dry.”
“This storm isn’t fair.”

And that’s the deeper trap.
You want to feel dry, but you’re waiting for the rain to change.
Not realizing that sometimes, the world won’t move for you.
You’ll have to move in spite of it.

I’ve seen this play out—in people I care about, and in myself.
I’ve stood in the rain, holding the solution, and still convinced it shouldn’t have to be this way.

That’s why this isn’t a post about motivation.
This is about what happens when identity gets in the way of freedom.

You don’t get points for knowing what to do.
You only move forward when you choose to believe it can work for you.
And until that happens, you’ll keep standing in the rain—soaked, frustrated, and strangely convinced that dryness was never really meant for you anyway.

Next: The Cost of Staying Dry