Sounds like a good thing, right?

We talk about tolerance like it’s a strength.

A badge of honor.

We build a tolerance for early mornings, long workouts, red wine, tough schedules, difficult clients. We pride ourselves on being adaptable. Easygoing. Low-maintenance.

We like to say, “I can handle a lot.”

But here’s a question worth asking:

What if the thing you’ve been building a tolerance for… is something you were never meant to tolerate in the first place?

It rarely happens all at once.

No one wakes up and thinks, “Today feels like a great day to slowly lower my standards.”

No, it’s subtle.

It’s the job that felt a little off in the interview… but you took it anyway. The friendship where you’re always the one reaching out. The environment that drains you, but you tell yourself, “It’s just a season.”

The first time something doesn’t sit right—you notice. The second time—you explain it away. By the third or fourth, you’ve adjusted.

You’ve adapted.

You’ve built a tolerance.

And here’s the part we don’t always see in real time:

You can build a tolerance for almost anything— even things that are quietly breaking you.

You can get used to: being undervalued at work, carrying more than your share in relationships, conversations that leave you feeling small

and environments that drain more than they give.

You can get so used to it, in fact, that it starts to feel normal.

And that’s where it gets dangerous.

Because tolerance, in the wrong places, doesn’t make you stronger.

It makes you numb.

It disconnects you from that internal voice that used to say, “This isn’t right.”

Instead, you start negotiating with yourself:

• It’s not that bad
• Everyone deals with this
• I should just be grateful

And little by little, you lower the bar—just enough to stay.

But here’s the truth that always holds:

What you tolerate becomes your standard.

Not what you say you want. Not what you know you deserve.

What you consistently allow.

And the longer you stay in something misaligned, the harder it becomes to recognize yourself inside of it.

You start asking questions you never used to ask:

• Am I expecting too much?
• Is this just how it is?
• Should I be more flexible?

When the better question might be:

Why am I trying so hard to make this work for me… when it clearly doesn’t?

There’s a difference between being patient and being quietly self-abandoning.

Between being resilient and being resigned.

Between building a tolerance and losing your standards.

Maybe the goal isn’t to become someone who can “handle more.”

Maybe it’s to become someone who recognizes sooner:

This doesn’t feel right for me.

And trusts that.

Because the strongest thing you can do isn’t always pushing through.

Sometimes it’s stepping back, reassessing, and deciding you don’t want to live like that anymore.

Be mindful of what you’re building a tolerance for.

Because not everything you can get used to is something you should keep.

XX,

MG