The blond man, delighted, surrounded by four bubbles of contradictory projects — longship, sailing boat, seaplane, aeroplane — while Coraline, her head spinning, raises her hand to stop him, her schedule in her hand — The Hammock and the Hummingbirds, practical guide It’s not your job to carry his changes of mind

How do you deal with someone who changes their mind all the time?

Stop adapting

Hand the responsibility back to him, take your time, and write down what’s been decided. You don’t have to adapt to his indecision.

The net closes in

“— Darling, I’ve had a brilliant idea. I’m going back to Soumerland in the drak-car to buy a caravan.
— No.
— Yes.
— No.
— Yes. Too late.

2 days later: actually I’ve changed my mind, I’m not going to buy a caravan. Two hours of counter-arguments later: I’m going to buy a boat.

He starts hunting for a metal boat, like a real marine detective: steel boat, boat that can reach the Canary Islands, boat that parks itself, boat with no ex-wife on board.

In my head, I can already see myself coming home from work with the shopping, swimming across with my things in a waterproof bag, climbing onto a boat under repair with no water and no shower. And same again the next day to go to work. I’ve just found the boat’s name: Up the Creek!

In one week, he changed his mind four times. And me, with my new job, I had to adapt every single time, to find solutions and somewhere to sleep.”

Extract from chapter 28 — Shuffle Mode On, from the novel The Hammock and the Hummingbirds.

Why you’re always the one who adapts

He doesn’t know what he wants. He lives every new idea like a brand-new present, with no memory of the last one. You carry the continuity for two: you remember, you reorganise, you fix.

And every U-turn costs you a house move. It costs him nothing: he assumes it’s normal for you to adapt.

He dithers, you pay.

How do you hand the responsibility back to him?

It’s not your job to carry his changes of mind.

He changes his mind, fine. He takes the consequences too.

— “So, in practice, what are you going to do?”
— “It’s your responsibility, you sort it out without me.”
— “You pull the same trick, you get the same answer.”

If he argues to drag you along: “Do what you like, it’s your choice. I’m choosing something else.”

How do you avoid committing too fast?

What do you do when your partner keeps changing his mind? Wait.

As long as he isn’t clear, as long as you haven’t decided together, don’t commit. You’re allowed to wait.

— “You change your mind a lot. Before I commit, I’m waiting until you’re clearer. We’ll decide together then.”

You can perfectly well say yes to something clear, later. Not to every passing idea.

Should you write down what you’ve decided?

Check he hasn’t decided on his own. A 3-line text is enough.

  1. What we’re doing, in one sentence.
  2. Until when, with the date.
  3. What changes if either of you backs out.

You write it down for both of you, and each of you commits accordingly. That’s the basics.

Once it’s written, you have proof he agreed. If he changes his mind later, it’s his to own. Not yours.

What not to do

Don’t do things for him. Don’t take on his responsibility for him. Don’t redo the plans for him. Don’t tell everyone for him. Don’t carry the load all on your own, or the memory of your agreements.

Everyone carries what belongs to them: you yours, him his.

Stop adapting to his mood swings, his indecision, his fear of settling down. It never ends.

It’s not your role to fix things, or to carry the weight of his ups and downs. Every time you fix things, you confirm that fixing is your role.

Changing your mind isn’t a crime

Everyone changes their mind. You’re allowed to think better of something once, it’s not a problem to be dealt with.

Look at how often he changes his mind. And above all: who pays the consequences?

Always keep the little magic sentence in mind:

— “Whose interest is this in? Both of ours? His alone? Mine alone?”

Answer that question, and decide accordingly.

And if he says you don’t trust him?

You trust his intention. Not his memory.

— “I believe you. But I don’t want to have to referee between our two memories in three weeks’ time.”
— “If you write down your choice, you commit to owning the consequences.”
— “If you change your mind, that’s your responsibility, not mine.”

And if he refuses to write down his choice, that’s an answer in itself, and a clear one.

— “I won’t take the consequences in your place.”

Remember

“Instead of adapting to his chopping and changing, I should have protected my peace by staying at home. Now, when I’m calm and balanced and the other person blows in with their gale, I shut the windows and my door to protect my peace.”

Faced with someone who changes their mind as often as their socks, be careful: don’t commit.
An agreement that isn’t written down isn’t an agreement.
His changes of mind are his to own, not yours.
You’re allowed to wait until his choices are clear before deciding whether you want to commit.

Practical guide 08 — How do you deal with someone who changes their mind all the time?
“My pen is my NO.”
The novel The Hammock and the Hummingbirds, by Karine Baridon.

Watching the hummingbirds

Watching the hummingbirds means changing your point of view.
It means seeing things from every angle.
It means accepting every part of ourselves. And of other people.
And laughing about it.

A hummingbird has every colour. So do we. Our shadows and our light.
You take one step to the side: green turns pink. Then gold.
Nothing has moved, except you.

What a practical guide is for

To try out a tool.
To change your point of view.
To laugh at something that was weighing on you this morning.

What it isn’t

It isn’t therapy.
It isn’t a diagnosis.
It isn’t a court: nobody’s looking for a culprit.
It isn’t a manual of good behaviour. You do as you like.

Its purpose

Accepting that we’re human. And fallible.
Our shadow sides. Our sides of light.
Taking the drama out, to get rid of the resistance.
Not judging ourselves. Not judging others.
Laughing about it. It works better, and it’s more fun.

Nobody gets judged here. Least of all you.
We don’t know anything you don’t. We’ve just written some tools.

Where these guides come from

Nobody invented them. They came out of a novel, chapter after chapter — and in the order I learnt them. Not in logical order: in the order life dropped them on me.

What you get, put end to end:
Don’t let yourself get caught in the middle.
Don’t have to prove your worth.
Understand the other person without carrying what belongs to them.
Spot what keeps repeating.
Set the limit, and hold it.
Name the manoeuvre: that’s enough to defuse it.
Walk away when the judges are the accusers.
Listen to your body, which answers before you do.
Sort out what you keep.
And finally: choose where you’re heading.

I only saw the logic afterwards, when I reread it. That’s why it holds: nobody drew it in advance.

If something is too much for you, see a professional. A guide is a tool, not a doctor.