Meadow DeVor · I used to think I was a good friend

I used to go from zero to best friends within the span of a few hours.

I thought that was a good thing. Spoiler alert: it’s not.

One of my fast-and-furious friendships started with a knock on my hotel door at 11:30 pm. A late-night invite to go swim.

I was in my pajamas and ready for bed. So, of course, I said yes.

I always said yes.

Because, yes... I wanted more connection. Yes... I wanted to stay up half the night laughing. Yes...I wanted to have fun. Yes, I wanted to belong, to matter. To be cared about. Chosen even.

And I thought that made me a good friend.

It wasn't like I was being deceitful on purpose. I didn't even realize I was offering up a fake version of myself.

That's the thing about blind spots. You don't know they're there until it's too late.

Looking back, so much of that friendship was built on a version of me that wasn’t real.

It started with me being flexible, agreeable, easygoing — shaping myself around who (I thought) she wanted me to be.

Years later, it ended with me being secretive, guarded, and resentful over who (I thought) she wanted me to be.

That’s the cost of a blind spot.

The weird thing about blind spots is that, most of the time, they're the things you do without thinking. The things that make you nice, likable. The things that make you human.

Holding a door open for someone. Replying to a text. Greeting people with a smile.

And because those patterns feel so normal, it’s hard to tell when something’s off — or when someone’s using them against you.

People ask me this all the time about someone they once trusted:

“Was she a narcissist?”
“Was he manipulating me from the beginning?”

Believe me, I've asked myself these same questions over and over.

I’ve traced the midnight-swim friendship back to that first knock on the door a thousand times, and I honestly have no idea if the relationship was wrong, right, toxic, or fine.

I have no idea if she was capable of respecting boundaries, because I never asked her to.

I have no idea if I really liked her — because I never actually met her. I was so focused on being who I thought she wanted, I didn’t take the time to see who she really was.

I have no idea if she really liked me because I never trusted her enough to let her meet me. The real me.

When we don’t know our blind spots, our perception gets warped. We can’t see how we’re operating — and we can’t see who we’re dealing with. So red flags don’t register… and safe people don’t either. Everyone starts to feel like the same monster.

And that is sad.

What's even worse is that I didn't just do this once.

I did it more times than I want to admit. Different people, different dynamics, same blind spots.

And I’ve spent the last 20 years of my career figuring out why.

That’s what drove me to create Un-Manipulatable — a 5-day live training to help you profile, protect, and outsmart manipulation, starting with the blind spot that’s been shaping your relationships without you even knowing it.

On Day 1, we profile the 9 blind spot patterns — so you can identify the one you’ve been stuck in, and understand how it’s been used against you.

If you’ve ever been blindsided by someone you thought you could trust, felt powerless in the moment, or walked away realizing you never actually showed up as yourself — this training was made for you.

You’ll learn how to spot unsafe people early, hold your ground in hard conversations, and stop second-guessing your own instincts.

Training starts September 8th, but enrollment is open now — and I’m offering a discounted rate for early sign-ups.

Spots are filling fast—only 8 discounted spots left as of this morning.

Grab yours now →

Tool for Empowerment: The Midnight Swim Test

If you’re not sure who to trust — or you’re not sure whether or not you should go for that swim —

Ask Yourself:

What would happen if I said yes, but not right now?

This one question will point to where your blind spot is.

Lesson:

Urgency is usually fear in disguise — fear of missing out, being left behind, or losing your chance. That’s where your blind spot shows up.

Any healthy connection can handle a pause. In fact, it should. The pause is what breaks the spell — the one where you're trying to earn closeness before you’ve checked if it’s safe. That space lets you come back to yourself. If slowing down feels risky, that’s the moment to pay attention to. That’s where your power leaks — and where you take it back.

(Listen to the audio of this email here... you'll like it.)