Getting Honest About Our Chameleon Syndrome

How fatigue from insecurity and approval seeking can open up a better path

As a recovering “insecure over-achiever” who has not always been comfortable in his own skin, I find comfort in how God singled out misfits in the Bible to channel his strength through their weakness and his blessing through their brokenness.

Do you find comfort in this as well?

The ancient Jewish patriarch, Jacob, is one of those people for me. He's the one who became famous for many things people don’t want to be famous for, especially his limp.

From his youth, Jacob was haunted by insecurity and a people-pleasing drive. He was known to deceive and truth-twist, which is always a symptom of what the Bible calls “the fear of man.”

In modern terms, we call it people pleasing or the chameleon syndrome. It shows up whenever the image-conscious, approval-hungry part of us “changes colors” in hopes of blending in nicely with the environment we are in and the people whose rejection, scorn, and belittling we dread the most. In short, we want to be loved and liked. And if we aren’t, we hide.

This past Thursday, a complete stranger rolled down his window to call me a horrible name after our vehicles almost collided. What threw me off was that he, not I, had taken up the entire pavement, his side and mine, with his massive truck. Driving dutifully in my own lane, I almost got hit head on as he barreled toward me while looking at his phone. And yet from his perspective, I was to blame for our near head-on collision. My sin, it seemed, was existing in the space he had decided was for him alone to occupy as king of the road, laws and lane boundaries notwithstanding

I will likely never see this man again. Even so, his name-calling dug its claws into my heart. The name he called me was a death word filled with contempt. It was the kind of word that belittles, diminishes, and dismisses its subject as a worthless nothing.

What is it about a vindictive label, even when it comes from a stranger who is clearly having a bad day, that can bring a spirit down like this? Why is being on the receiving end of someone else’s damning word choice so hard to shake?

As the second-born son of Isaac, from early childhood Jacob lived with the pain of knowing that he was his father’s second favorite son. Isaac loved his first son and Jacob’s twin brother, Esau, the best. Years of doting on and favoring Esau—his macho, hunter gatherer son—wounded Jacob deeply.

Another significant detail about Jacob’s childhood is that the name given to him by his own father means “Liar.” Imagine how this might mess with a young man's head and heart. Every time someone says his name, he is reminded afresh that he is the subject of his own father’s disregard.

Jacob took desperate measures to reverse the name given him by Isaac. When he and Esau were adult men and Isaac had lost his eyesight and was dying, Jacob went in to his father posing as Esau. “Father, it’s me, Esau,” Jacob said. “Give me my blessing.” Thinking that the son of his scorn was instead son of his love, Isaac spoke the blessing—unaware and under false pretense—over Jacob instead of Esau.

I once heard it said that Jacob’s deceit was the first recorded case of identity theft. But what was his motivation? Why, knowing that Isaac and Esau would soon find him out, did Jacob deceive anyway? A good therapist would say that it was because Jacob craved a paternal blessing. He longed to hear affirming words spoken over him. And if the blessing can only be gained under false pretenses, a child will resort to any measure to satisfy this primal craving. Jacob wanted to hear from his father’s lips, “I see you. You matter. I love you. I like you. You matter to me.”

My own children have sought similar blessings. When one of our daughters was six years old, she asked me to watch her while she read a book. Silently. So watch her silently I did. Then I gave her what she was fishing for and did not withhold it. “Way to go! I am so proud of you! You read so well! I really enjoyed watching you read!”

And I did.

What is it in a little girl’s heart that makes her long to be watched while doing something so mundane, something so unspectacular, as reading a book to herself quietly? It’s the same thing that resides in the heart of a grown-up. It’s a longing to be approved and favored. It’s a longing to be somebody in the eyes of a greater Somebody. It’s a longing to be secure.

The comedian and talk show host, Ellen DeGeneres, talks about an imaginary “approval patch” that she wears under her sleeve every day. The approval patch, she says, works like a nicotine patch. All through the day it releases small doses of approval, and she can’t peel it off until the craving stops.

But for Ellen, Jacob, and the rest of us, the craving never stops. We are made in the Image of God, who exists to be glorified and enjoyed. Why, then, would we ever think it odd to desire praise ourselves, being made in his image?

There’s a Groucho Marx skit that I can relate to. Groucho is conversing with a friend, going on and on (and on and on…) about himself. Then, he slips into a brief moment of self-awareness and apologizes to his friend:

“Well. Enough about me. Let’s talk about you. What do you think about me?”

Can’t we all relate? Aren’t we all wearing a version of Ellen’s approval patch? This is why so many pursue positions of leadership and influence. We crave doses of attention and approval seeping into our systems every minute of the hour, every hour of the day, every day of the week, every week of the month, and every month of the year.

And the craving never stops. This is why we panic when someone emails us and the subject line reads, “Can we talk?” This is why, even after a banner year, we dread an upcoming review of our work. This is why we feel threatened by talented up-and-comers in our industries and organizations, and why we lay awake at night wrestling with our inner Jacob and with God. As Madonna once said about her own fears that she would be seen as mediocre:

“My struggle has never ended and it probably never will.”

As we read through the Jacob account, we encounter a broken man. And yet, God singles him out to be father…

Father!

…to the twelve tribes of Israel—the forever figurehead to twelve sons whose “tribes” would eventually establish an entire nation. With this as his life’s purpose, it is critical that the father-wounded Jacob undergo healing. For this to happen, and for Jacob to be able to release the wounds of the years of paternal cursing and neglect, he has to go through a dark night of the soul.

Jacob wrestles with the presence of God—the same God who put him in a family with a dad who named him Liar.

We are told in Genesis 32 that Jacob was alone all night, wrestling until daybreak. If you know anything about wrestling, you know that even three minutes on the mat with an opponent is exhausting. But Jacob wrestles with God all the way to daybreak! Then God says to him, “Let me go.” The exhausted, resilient Jacob then replies, “I won’t let you go until you bless me.”

I won’t let go until you bless me. Until God blesses me. Until the Supreme Somebody affirms that I, Jacob, am seen as a loved one not a liar, as a favored son not a contemptible throwaway, as a Somebody not a Nobody.

It was there on the ground, wrangling with God from evening until daybreak, that Jacob finally found what he was looking for. There on the ground, he heard the voice of a Father who had loved him from before he was born, who had declared that he, Jacob “the younger” would rule over his older brother Esau as the divinely favored son. Jacob heard a Father who was not blind but who could see him all the way down to his core, conveying to him something similar to the words that would one day be uttered to an even greater Son:

“You are my beloved son, and with you I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17).

No approval patch needed. Ceaseless striving for external blessing no longer required for survival. No more fear of mediocrity or forgotten legacies. Because now, Jacob, I am giving you a new name. From now on, you will be named Israel, which means “He wrestles with God.”

When you’ve wrestled with God and received a blessing, it has a way of breaking the spell of insecurity and fear. It has a way of making you less needy for approval and applause, and therefore more poised to love and to serve. It enables the chameleon in you to come out of hiding and show its truest colors, all given by God for the display of his own splendor.