What Personality Trait in People Raises a Red Flag With You?

If I had to name just one red flag that makes me pause, it’s inconsistency.

Not the harmless kind, like forgetting where you left your keys, or changing your dinner order at the last minute. I’m talking about the kind of inconsistency where people’s words and actions don’t line up—where promises float like balloons but never land, and where affection shows up only when it’s convenient.

I’ve lived long enough, and tripped over enough potholes—both real and metaphorical—to know what that kind of inconsistency does. It confuses you. It makes you question your worth. And worst of all, it tempts you into following breadcrumb trails that lead absolutely nowhere.

I’ve seen it in love. Like the man who could charm me on Zoom but turn into a stranger when we finally met in real life. Or the ex who reappeared at a family wedding, smiled sweetly at my aunt, and had her plotting our imaginary reunion while I stood there thinking, This is not the movie she’s writing in her head. Inconsistency has a way of dressing itself up as possibility, but really, it’s just another pothole on the road you didn’t ask to drive down.

I’ve seen it in work, too. The interviews where big companies promise innovation, but what they really want is someone to follow instructions and color inside the lines. The leaders who ask for storytelling, then cut the story short the minute it gets uncomfortable.

And I’ve even seen it in myself—those times I held light for others while hiding in my own darkness, or the moments I chased the “right” career because it looked good on paper, even though my heart was hungry for something else.

Here’s the truth I’ve learned: consistency is not about being perfect. It’s about alignment. Do your actions align with your words? Does your presence align with your promises? Does your life align with what you say matters most to you?

These days, I raise a quiet flag of my own when I sense inconsistency. It doesn’t have to be dramatic—just a gentle mental note that says, Pay attention. This may not be safe ground.

And while I still stumble, I no longer follow every breadcrumb trail. Some paths are not meant for me. Some lessons I’ve already learned. And some red flags, once you’ve named them, no longer need to entangle you.

That’s the kind of wisdom I explore in my memoir, Life Decisions and Potholes. Because life isn’t just about the roads you choose—it’s also about learning which detours aren’t worth your time.

This is the story of my chaos, my pivots, my heartaches, and my laughter—if you’ve ever had life fall apart (and then laughed about it), this book’s for you.