Being Hostage to Potential: When Hope Becomes a Trap
A love letter to everyone who's ever felt trapped by a maybe someday
I've been thinking about this thing that keeps happening - this pattern I see in myself, in my friends, in the stories people tell me when they're crying in coffee shops or texting me at 2am. And I finally found words for it: Hostage to Potential.
It's that thing where you're so in love and you never want to leave them, but if only…
You're waiting for who they could be and what you could have together. And you'll wait forever for that version to show up because you know they're in there somewhere. You can see it, you can feel it, even while the person they are now breaks your heart over and over again.
How I Learned to Name This Thing
This didn't come from one conversation. This came from years of watching myself do it, watching people I love do it, having the same conversation with different friends using different words but always circling around the same devastating truth: we were all falling in love with potential instead of reality.
There was the friend who kept going back to the ex who was "working on his communication issues" for three years running. There was my own tendency to see the version of my family that showed up 10% of the time and keep hoping that version would become the default. There were the clients who would describe their partners or bosses or friends by saying "they're really good people, they just..." and then list seventeen ways those people consistently hurt them.
And there was me, finally getting honest about how many times I'd chosen someone's beautiful possibility over my ugly, consistent reality.
What This Actually Looks Like in Real Life
Here's the thing about being hostage to potential - it doesn't feel like settling. It feels like hope. It feels like seeing the best in people. It feels like love and loyalty and all the things we were taught to see, believe, and value.
And here's what it actually is:
You're in love with their representative, not them. You fell for the version of them that shows up when they're trying to impress you, when they're on their best behavior, when the stars align and they're feeling particularly motivated to be better. But that's not who they are most of the time. That's who they are sometimes.
You're making decisions based on their highlights reel. That one time they apologized beautifully. That week when they actually followed through. That conversation where they really seemed to get it. You're building your whole relationship on the exception, not the rule.
You're explaining away their patterns like you're their defense attorney. "They had a hard childhood." "They're stressed at work." "They don't mean it that way." And maybe all of that is true. It still doesn't change the devastating impact on your life.
You end up treating your own needs like they're optional. Because if you just wait a little longer, if you just love them a little harder, if you just explain it one more time using exactly the right words, surely they'll stay the person who can actually show up for you. Right?
The Conversations That Break My Heart
"I know he loves me, he just doesn't know how to show it."
"She's been through so much, I can't abandon her now."
"They're getting better. It's just slow progress."
"I've already invested so much in this relationship."
"I can see who they really are underneath all the hurt."
“I can’t do that to the kids.”
“They already say everyone else has given up on them, I can’t be another person to do that to them.”
Every single one of these sentences is a person choosing someone else's potential over their own present reality. And I get it. I've said versions of all of these things many, many times. Because admitting that someone you love can't or won't show up for you the way you need feels like giving up on them. It feels like being shallow or impatient or not loving enough.
But here's what I wish someone had told me earlier: Loving someone's potential while they consistently hurt your reality isn't love. It isn’t kindness. It isn’t compassion. It’s putting your power, your peace, and your potential in someone else’s hand. Even after they have told you they don’t care if it gets destroyed. As long as you don’t leave them.
Why We Get Stuck Here (And Why It's Not Your Fault)
We get trapped in this cycle because we're taught that love means never giving up on people. We're taught that if you really love someone, you see their potential and you help them reach it. We're taught that walking away means you didn't try hard enough.
And sometimes - just enough to keep us hooked - they do show up. They have that breakthrough conversation. They make that change they promised. They become, for a moment, the person you knew they could be. And you think "See! I was right to wait!"
But here's the thing about intermittent reinforcement: it's the strongest addiction pattern there is. It's why people stay hooked on slot machines and toxic relationships and any situation where the reward comes just often enough to keep you playing but not often enough to actually improve your life.
Also? We're scared of the grief. Because if you stop believing in their potential, you have to face the loss of what you thought this relationship could be. You have to grieve the person you thought they were becoming. You have to admit that the future you imagined isn't going to happen. And that hurts so much that staying stuck in hope feels easier.
The Real Cost of Being Hostage to Potential
While you're waiting for someone else to become who they could be, here's what happens to who you actually are:
You start shrinking yourself to make room for their growth. You lower your standards and call it patience. You ignore your needs and call it understanding. You accept crumbs and call it gratitude.
You lose track of your own potential because you're so invested in theirs. Your energy, your attention, your hope - it all goes toward their maybe instead of your definitely.
You develop a tolerance for treatment that would horrify you if you saw someone else accepting it. Because you're not seeing what's actually happening - you're seeing what could happen if they just...
You start believing that love means accepting whatever someone is willing to give you instead of believing you deserve someone who can and wants to give you what you need.
And here's the cruelest part: you start thinking that their inability to show up consistently is somehow your fault. That if you were just more patient, more understanding, more loving, they would finally become the person you know they could be.
What It Looks Like to Break Free
First, you have to get honest about what's actually happening versus what you hope will happen. And I mean really honest. Not "they're working on it" honest. Not "they mean well" honest. Actually honest about patterns, about consistency, about how this relationship affects your daily life.
You have to separate their potential from their pattern. Yes, they might be capable of amazing things. Yes, they might have legitimate reasons for their struggles. And yes, they might actually be showing some signs of growth. But what's their pattern? What do they actually do, most of the time, when you need them?
You have to grieve the relationship you thought you could have together. This is the hardest part, because that future felt so real to you. You could see it so clearly. But that future might never happen, and you have to let yourself feel sad about that before you can move forward.
You have to choose your present over their potential. This means making decisions based on who they are right now, not who they might become. This means setting boundaries based on current reality, not future possibility.
The Difference Between Supporting Someone and Being Their Hostage
Supporting someone's growth looks like: "I believe in you and I'm here to cheer you on while you do the work of becoming who you want to be. And I have my own life and goals that don't depend on your progress."
Being hostage to someone's potential looks like: "I believe in you so much that I'll put my life on hold while you figure yours out. My happiness depends on you becoming who I know you can be."
Supporting someone means you love them as they are AND you're excited about who they're becoming. Being hostage means you love who they could be more than you can accept who they are.
Supporting someone means your love is a gift, not a strategy. Being hostage means your love is conditional on their potential becoming reality.
What I Wish I Could Tell My Younger Self
You don't have to choose between loving someone and protecting yourself. You can wish someone well while choosing not to wait for them to get their life together.
You don't have to stick around to see if someone's potential becomes reality. That's their work to do, not yours to witness.
You deserve to be loved as you are, not as you could be if you were just a little different. And that means other people deserve that same unconditional love - but you don't have to be the one giving it to them if they can't give it back.
Your energy is sacred. Spend it on people who are already showing up, not people who might someday show up.
The relationship you're waiting for them to become capable of? You might never have that relationship. But the relationship you could have with someone who's already capable of loving you well? That person is waiting for you to set yourself free.
Moving Forward
When you stop being hostage to other people's potential, you create space for relationships with people who show up as they are. You get to experience what it's like to be with someone whose best self isn't a rare guest appearance - it's who they actually are most of the time.
You get to discover your own potential when you're not spending all your energy believing in someone else's.
You get to learn what it feels like to be chosen by someone who doesn't need you to be different to love you properly.
And maybe - maybe - by refusing to be hostage to potential that never materializes, you create space for the people who are ready to love you in reality, not just in possibility.
You don't have to wait for someone else's maybe to start living your definitely. You can choose yourself now. You can choose relationships that meet you where you are now. You can choose to love people for who they actually are, which includes loving yourself enough to walk away from love that only exists in potential.
If this feels familiar, if you've been living in someone else's maybe while your own definitely waits in the wings, you're not alone. And you're not wrong for hoping. But you're also not required to hope forever.
Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is refuse to enable someone's potential by accepting their pattern. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is set yourself free.
