The complaint is an altogether common one: ‘My partner changed. They used to be so kind, but maybe they never were. Maybe they were always faking it. Why I do I keep choosing such unkind people to date? But really, why are people just awful?’ There is a lot to explore and understand therein: the hurt, the betrayal, the expectations, the assumptions, the presumed narrative, the scripted conclusions, and it is all worthy of examination. However, the complaint itself holds within it foundational ideas of character that are rarely examined in good faith, which, if examined in good faith, answers and resolves those questions.
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From a fixed perspective, someone would believe that a person’s character is solidly defined, unchanging, or perhaps changing only by degree but never by type. With this, a kind person only gets more mature in their kindness, growth in degrees, but never by becoming an unkind person altogether. From a fixed perspective too, it makes sense that the judgment of a person as real or fake reinforces this idea; a kind person is real if they are always kind and stay kind, and they are fake if they aren’t always kind or in any way become unkind. I have sympathy for this perspective; the want to have clearly defined characteristics, permanent character, and the subsequent relief that once you know a person for what they are, once you see any indication or red flag or hint at another’s character, all is immediately known about the person and who they are and how they are.
From a dynamic perspective, there is more uncertainty, much more unknown, and even more that cannot be known about a person’s character. To look from a dynamic perspective, for example, on kindness, it would allow for questioning. How did this person come to be kind? What presently motivates them to be kind? What would presently motivate them to be unkind? What if they lost their motivation to be kind? What if they gained the motivation to be unkind? What if they believed no one appreciated or perceived their kindness, who would they then become? When is their kindness intentional? When is their kindness unintentional? How do they judge intentional versus unintentional kindness? Where is their kindness conditional? Where is their kindness unconditional? How do they measure their kindness at present? How did they measure their kindness in the past? Who had the biggest influence in their kindness? Who doesn’t influence their kindness? How has their kindness changed? How will their kindness change? Each question turns into other questions, continuously changing and challenging and crafting ideas of a person’s character as knowable, if only, in the exact moment is it discerned.
An unchanging and fixed perspective lends itself to a singular conversation of discerning absolute and true character, thus dismissing all other conversations, and disguising confirmation bias as pattern recognition; a changing and dynamic perspective of character lends itself to pluralistic conversations of character growth, character stagnation, character decay, exploring temperamental biases themselves, and seeking to carefully examine the conditions and mechanics of each character in its own context.
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“From a fixed perspective too, it makes sense that the judgment of a person as real or fake reinforces this idea; a kind person is real if they are always kind and stay kind, and they are fake if they aren’t always kind or in any way become unkind.”If one holds the idea that character is fixed, the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow, then any growth or change can only be felt as a betrayal. Unchanging and unmoved character is then safe, predictable, and a kind of comfort, so the hurt and betrayal of someone changing is valid as it is rooted in that particular world view. Within the fixed perspective itself, there is a paradoxical slanting towards the worst, because perfectly maintained character, endlessly performed and constantly perceived, is the expectation of fixed character. This is the neurotic expectation at the center of fixed character: one must always be in order to be. With this view, seeing the red flag of falsity in the rearview mirror is inevitable, the truth that someone wasn’t what they seemed is guaranteed, or to use more symbolic language, all will fall short.
It is from the shadow of this judgment itself, of character as fixed, unfortunately, that character is neglected. ‘If I see a person as kind, then I don’t need to nurture or support or care for that character, because they will stay fixed, because if they truly are kind, then they will stay kind regardless of what I do or don’t do.’ It is that worldview of character as fixed that, I argue, structurally takes advantage of another’s character; character can only ever be neglected because it is never a question of nurturing. Nurturing implies an ongoing dynamic, that one needs support to be the way they are, and the way they want to be. This is applicable not only for others, but in how individuals view themselves too.
Many people, in their own sense of self, fixedly believe themselves to be beyond influence, believing their own character to be solid. Identity language cements this: ‘I’m kind. I’m good. I’m messy. I’m a safe person. I’m stubborn.’ Inversely, it is this sense of self as solid that, in not needing nurturance, is also taken advantage of, because it can only ever be taken advantage of, and yet to not feel taken advantage of is to have those aspects of character nurtured. Therein lies a paradox.
A dynamic view of character recognizes this, and yet, it isn’t always straightforward what will nurture a particular characteristic. For example, in being kind, another person appreciating kindness might not necessarily nurture their own desire to be kind. Another idea, that of returning kindness as a form of nurturing, might be neurotically distrusted rather than than received, because it is done as a reaction or a return. Other’s kindness might be dismissed as manners or politeness or performative. So then, it not a fixed answer to what nurtures another’s character, but a dynamic answer too: What right now will help you be kind? What in this moment would nurture your capacity to be kind? What might make it easier to be kind? Would taking a pause from the expectation of endless kindness help you return to kindness? Would forgiveness for that pause nurture a desire to be kind again? I believe these questions, and more, seek to examine character in good faith and also seek to nurture it simultaneously.
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“It is this sense of self as solid that, in not needing nurturance, is also taken advantage of, because it can only ever be taken advantage of, and yet to not feel taken advantage of is to have those aspects of character nurtured.”To think about one’s own character as needing nurturance is to recognize what also is underneath resentments and arguments where the problem rests at the point of experiencing another. I say this, because when a relational problem itself isn’t necessarily an identifiable problem, but seems to be how a person is, or how a problem affects a person, then the problem might be one of how character is changing in that moment. For example, repeated moments of another’s carelessness might weather a person’s own resolve to be caring. To frame solving this problem as getting another to be more caring, then, avoids the experience of oneself as losing the desire to care, and also, avoids the fact that one’s desire to care can also be lost. That deeper awareness of self, and challenge to that particular sense of self, is often the emotional fuel for the surface conflict.
Nurturing character, then, is about beginning a different conversation to prevent neglect, but also having ongoing conversations to further one’s growth of character. As a simplistic image, a cup can be half full, or half empty, but I wonder when a person drinks that exact cup of water; if they wait to be thirsty before drinking it, if they drink to simply stay hydrated. I don’t believe you need to deprive yourself of water to earn drinking water out of thirst, and yet many people do the same with regard to their own character and to each other’s character as well.
To conclude, the point isn’t getting it right and fully knowing another’s fixed character, nor to perfect the system and expertly devise the right nurturing conditions to make someone the absolute best version of themselves; the point if I may be so bold, is the effort to nurture itself, not the perfect completion of the task. Another point, if I may be given extra grace, is to recognize the implicit mutual responsibility that we all share in our character and each other’s character. The ongoing attention to noticing another’s character shift and move and grow and evolve is then the joyous point. It is beyond a powerless and distant witnessing; it is giving a cup of water from one’s own hand.
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Contemplative exercises:
- What are the qualities that I see in another, that I value about them?
- What have I done to directly acknowledge those aspects of another’s character?
- How have I acknowledged, to them directly, how I’ve benefited from their character?
- What have I done to directly nurture those aspects of their character?
- Have I actively confirmed that my nurturance is felt as nurturing?
- What are the qualities that I see in myself, that I value about myself?
- What have I done to directly acknowledge those aspects of my character?
- What have I done to directly nurture those aspects of my own character?
- Have I actively reflected on my own nurturing and building my character?
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Posted June 29, 2026
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