People Are Not Formulas

We spend a lot of time trying to figure people out. We analyze tone. We replay conversations. We look for patterns that explain why someone said what they said or acted the way they did. And when things don’t add up, when someone contradicts themselves or behaves in a way we didn’t expect, we assume something is wrong. Either with them, or with our understanding of them. But the truth is simpler, and harder to accept at the same time: people are not formulas. They are not predictable equations with a few rare exceptions. And when we treat them that way, we don’t gain clarity. We create confusion.

Our Need to Make Sense of People

It makes sense that we want explanations. Labels and frameworks give us language for experiences that once felt overwhelming or personal. They help us name dynamics, protect ourselves, and feel less alone. The issue begins when we start using those explanations as conclusions instead of tools. When we decide who someone is based on a handful of interactions, or when we expect consistency simply because we’ve categorized them, we forget something essential. Human behavior is responsive. It shifts depending on environment, safety, stress, and connection.

Inconsistency is not evidence of deception. Most of the time, it’s evidence of complexity.

Why We Judge Strangers More Harshly

Think about someone you’ve never really gotten along with. Someone whose presence immediately puts you on edge.

Now think about a close friend who has habits that frustrate you.

If you’re honest, there’s probably overlap.

Maybe both avoid accountability. Maybe both shut down during conflict. Maybe both speak without thinking and hurt people unintentionally. Yet one becomes a story you tell yourself about who they are, while the other becomes a flaw you tolerate.

Your friend isn’t a bad person. They just struggle sometimes.

The other person, though, feels different.

That difference isn’t logic. It’s proximity.

With people we know, we automatically add context. We remember their past, their intentions, the moments they showed up when it mattered. We see the full picture, or at least more of it.

With people we don’t know, behavior exists in isolation. Without context, actions feel heavier. One moment defines the whole person.

Behavior and Identity

This is where we start to trap ourselves.

We turn behavior into identity. Someone is no longer a person who did something hurtful, they are hurtful. Someone isn’t having a bad moment, they are the problem.

And then, when that person does something kind or thoughtful, it throws us off.

We ask questions like: "How could they act like that if they care?" "Was any of it genuine?" "Which version of them is real?"

The uncomfortable answer is that both can be real at the same time.

People are capable of care and selfishness, awareness and avoidance, growth and regression, often within the same relationship. This doesn’t make them fake. It makes them human.

You Don’t Need Full Understanding

There’s pressure to fully understand people before we’re allowed to move on, set boundaries, or let go.

But total understanding isn’t required.

You don’t need to explain someone’s inner world to decide what behavior you accept. You don’t need a perfect narrative to justify distance. And you don’t need to turn someone into a villain in order to protect yourself.

There’s strength in saying “This doesn’t work for me” without needing to say “This defines who you are”. One creates space. The other closes it. When we stop treating people like formulas, we stop demanding that they make perfect sense. We allow for the fact that people show up differently in different moments. That who someone is with you may not be who they are with someone else. That timing, fear, and growth all shape behavior in ways we may never fully see. This doesn’t mean excusing harm or abandoning boundaries. It means releasing the need to flatten people into something easier to understand.

What We Gain When We Let Go

Letting go of the formula mindset doesn’t make life more chaotic. It actually brings relief.

We stop replaying conversations endlessly. We stop taking inconsistency as a personal failure. We stop forcing people into boxes they were never meant to fit into.

And in doing so, we give ourselves permission to be human too.

Because we are not formulas either.

We are layered, unfinished, and often contradictory.

And once we accept that, understanding becomes lighter, boundaries become clearer, and peace becomes possible.