People change. We grow out of friendships, lose touch, move away. Some relationships fade quietly, while others rupture and leave scars. Even within ourselves, we evolve—our beliefs shift, our priorities rearrange, the things we once swore by become distant memories.
But if everything is constantly in motion, what—if anything—remains unchanged?
Some say nothing stays the same. That we are nothing but an accumulation of experiences, shaped endlessly by our surroundings. That even our personality is fluid, bending to time and circumstance. But that doesn’t sit right with me. Because I’ve noticed something:
There are people who change, but who, at their core, stay exactly the same.
It’s not in their interests or their habits—those things come and go. It’s in something deeper. A rhythm, a way of perceiving the world. A kind of essence that lingers, no matter what happens to them.
The Difference Between Those Who Stay and Those Who Drift
Some people move through life fluidly. They adapt easily, reshaping themselves to fit new environments, trying on different versions of themselves as they grow. It’s not that they’re inauthentic—just that they are highly responsive to change, flexible in how they present themselves to the world.
Others have a more defined core. They evolve, but there’s always something about them that remains distinctly recognizable. No matter where they go, no matter what they experience, they are always themselves. Their essence isn’t rigid, but it’s undeniable.
Both ways of being exist on a spectrum. Some are adaptable yet deeply rooted in who they are. Others change so fluidly that they feel like entirely different people at different points in their lives. The difference lies in whether, beneath all the external shifts, there is something constant—an underlying rhythm that remains unchanged.
And I think this is why some relationships last while others fade.
Some friendships are built on shared circumstances. When the context changes, the bond dissolves. But other friendships don’t need maintenance. They don’t rely on constant interaction or shared activities. They exist because the people involved recognize something unchanging in each other. And that recognition doesn’t weaken with time or distance.
That’s why, with some people, no matter how long it’s been, there is no awkwardness. No catching up is necessary. The conversation picks up where it left off, as if nothing ever interrupted it.
Because nothing did.
What Is That Unchanging Thing?
I don’t think it’s personality—personality can shift. I don’t think it’s beliefs—beliefs can be broken and rebuilt.
Maybe it’s something closer to temperament—the way a person naturally leans. The way they think, the way they process life. Some people are always searching, some are always building, some are always grounding. Even if their actions change, even if they grow, the fundamental way they exist stays the same.
If you look back at yourself as a child, there’s probably something that was already there. Something that, despite everything that’s happened since, never really changed.
Maybe that’s what makes certain friendships unshakable. Maybe the reason some people stay in our lives isn’t because they didn’t change—but because they changed in ways that still harmonized with who we’ve always been.
And maybe the reason others drift is because they were never quite rooted in the first place.
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