I’ve Changed My Mind
- Melanie Troxell

- 2 days ago
- 3 min read

Why the strongest leaders are willing to outgrow old versions of themselves.
🎧 Prefer to listen? Listen to Mile https://open.spotify.com/episode/7bEqNrPOdEPaQ60bdRhXUF?si=kTNy8WnvT3OApTQN0zWdlw
The older I get, the more I love these four little words.
I’ve changed my mind.
Those words used to actually really bother me—a lot.
I remember hearing a heated conversation about a political candidate who had run for office and won, and then, decades later, switched parties and ran again. He won. Again.
The people discussing the candidate were angry. They felt betrayed and suspicious. I remember thinking quietly, What if he actually changed his mind?
I almost experienced a cold chill, I was so uncomfortable with that thought. I did not keep it around for long.
A “Rush Baby” through and through, I was raised to believe in conviction.
Even in less socially expensive topics, changing my mind felt like uncertainty. Instability. Definitely a lack of conviction.
Now, I hear something entirely different.
Curiosity. Humility. Growth.
I think one of the healthiest signs of maturity is the willingness to say, “I understand this differently than I used to.”
That wasn’t always true of me.
The Happy Little Rule Follower
Years ago, I followed a boyfriend to a tiny Bible college tucked away in the middle of nowhere. It’s funny where you’ll go for “love.”
I arrived expecting a time of spiritual growth. In many ways, that’s exactly what I found—but not in the ways I expected.
The campus was… different.
Long hair. Longer skirts. Rules for absolutely everything.
These weren’t the kinds of Christians I had grown up around. My parents quietly (loudly?) worried I might be stepping into something unhealthy, and looking back, I understand why they had concerns.
But I was a happy little rule follower.
So I bought the dresses.
I learned the expectations.
I was in my dorm room every evening by 7:30 because that’s where I was supposed to be.
I made wonderful friends. Studied hard. Got involved.
The boyfriend and I eventually broke up—which was probably just as well, since romantic relationships were… forbidden there anyway.
Oddly enough, it wasn’t heartbreaking.
There was too much life to experience. Too much to learn. Too many fascinating people to know.
One thing I’ve learned about myself is that I can usually be happy almost anywhere.
And I really was.
She Hadn’t Met the Woman She Was Becoming
When I look back now, I don’t roll my eyes at that young woman.
I smile.
She was sincere.
She genuinely wanted to honor God. She wanted to make good decisions. She wanted to become the kind of woman she believed she was supposed to be.
She wasn’t pretending.
She wasn’t weak.
She simply hadn’t met the woman she was still becoming.
Over the years, one of the greatest gifts my husband has given me hasn’t been a particular belief or argument.
He’s given me permission—to ask questions, to explore ideas without feeling threatened by them. He’s given me permission to hold my convictions with confidence while also holding them with open hands.
He didn’t teach me what to think.
He reminded me that healthy people never stop learning how to think.
(Shameless plug for his latest book, Think Before You Believe: How to Read Scripture Without Misleading Yourself!)
Conviction Doesn’t Require Stagnation
Some of the things I believed at twenty are still foundational today.
Some convictions have only grown deeper.
Others…
I’ve changed my mind.
And today, I don’t say those words with embarrassment.
I say them with gratitude.
I think the same willingness matters in leadership.
Strong leaders need convictions. They need principles that hold when circumstances become difficult. But conviction and teachability are not enemies.
Sometimes the leader we were five years ago was exactly the leader we knew how to be then. We made decisions with the experience, understanding, and information we had.
Growth asks us to keep examining what we think we know.
Is this still true? Is this still working? What have I learned that I couldn’t have known then? Am I defending a principle—or simply defending an old version of myself?
That last question can be uncomfortable.
It can also be freeing.
Because changing my mind doesn’t necessarily mean I walked away from truth.
Sometimes it means I walked closer to it.
And perhaps one of the strongest things a leader can say is simply:
I know more now. I see it differently. I’ve changed my mind.
If you’re navigating a leadership shift of your own—rethinking old patterns, growing into a different kind of leader, or realizing that what got you here may not be what takes you forward—this is exactly the kind of work we explore through coaching and leadership development at Transformationship Leadership Group.



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