You Didn’t Bring This On Yourself

You didn’t bring this on yourself.

You didn’t unintentionally manifest it.

No, it’s not karma.

I know there is this undercurrent, especially in healing spaces, of foisting responsibility for pain, illness, grief, and plain bad fucking luck onto the person experiencing it. As though if we had only healed enough, regulated enough, forgiven enough, eaten correctly enough, meditated enough, or stayed “high vibration” enough, we might somehow have escaped the reality of being human. It adds insult to injury, and not only is it wrong, I also find it absolutely infuriating.

Let me tell you a story.

During an intensive yoga training I was enrolled in, our cohort was having a teaching session with an Ayurvedic practitioner. We were discussing the doshas and the ways in which imbalance can contribute to illness and pain. At one point, we were talking about Vata dosha and all the practices said to pacify it (because it is believed to drive illness), and I remarked that I had been doing all of those things for many years, yet here I was with MS anyway.

She looked at me with pity and said, “Well, then you couldn’t have really been doing them, or doing them correctly, because you got sick.”

Blink, blink. What?

I was not only shocked, I was absolutely furious. Because too many of the women on that Zoom call also looked at me with what felt like agreement. Like they believed it too. I realized in that moment that some part of me agreed as well. Some part of me still believed that I was somehow to blame, that I should have done more, healed better, tried harder to become the sort of person bad things do not happen to.

It is the water we swim in, isn’t it?

And that day, I decided come hell or high water, I would no longer believe such utter bullshit.

Nor should you.

The Water We Swim In

This belief system is everywhere. It lives in wellness culture, spiritual spaces, self-help rhetoric, and even in subtle conversations between women who are desperately trying to create some sense of safety in an unpredictable world. We are constantly being sold the idea that if we would just make the “right” choices, we can secure ourselves against pain. That if we optimize our health metrics, heal deeply enough, or think positively enough, we might somehow exempt ourselves from loss, illness, aging, grief, heartbreak, or disability.

And I understand why this belief is seductive. I really do.

The world can feel unbearably fragile sometimes. Bodies have an expiration date. Lives change in an instant. People we love suffer. We suffer. There is something deeply comforting about believing there is a formula that can protect us from the terrifying vulnerability of being alive.

But when we believe this, we inevitably begin assigning moral meaning to suffering. If someone is ill, struggling, exhausted, depressed, grieving, anxious, in pain, or diagnosed with something life-altering, there is the silent implication that perhaps they failed somewhere. Perhaps they ignored the signs. Perhaps they just weren’t aligned enough. Perhaps they “did healing” incorrectly.

What a cruel burden to place on people who are facing their humanity in such a stark manner.

The Fantasy of Control

When that teacher said that to me, I realized I had been hoping that all of my practices were ensuring my well-being. If I do everything “right” and everything I’m told, no harm will come to me. It reminds me of the superstitions we carry - black cats, stepping on cracks, or the bad luck of Friday the 13th.

I had believed, perhaps unconsciously, that all my devotion to healing was creating a certain kind of future. That if I did enough yoga, enough meditation, enough nervous system work, enough nourishing and tending and listening and self-awareness, maybe I could avoid catastrophe. Maybe I could protect myself from the reality that every human body is vulnerable and temporary.

And when I got the diagnosis, there was a part of me that felt betrayed. Of course.

Betrayed not only by my body, but by the narrative itself.

The tender truth I had to face is this: healing practices are not contracts with the universe. They are not guarantees against pain. Nor are they immunity from illness, heartbreak, aging, disability, grief, or death.

Our practices, self-care, and optimized sleep cannot make us invincible - no matter what the wellness bros say.

I think many of us unwittingly carry this fantasy of control. Especially women who are conscientious, self-aware, and deeply committed to growth. We are taught that our well-being is largely a reflection of how disciplined we are in caring for ourselves. While of course, we do have agency and our choices matter, there is a profound difference between caring for ourselves and believing we can earn exemption from being human.

You Are Human, Not Defective

If you have received a diagnosis, you know what that means? You are human, and a lot of factors came together in your body and your life that led to that diagnosis.

If you are experiencing ongoing pain, you know what that means? You are human, and so many things are contributing to your experience, many of which are beyond your control. Yes, you may have some agency. Yes, there may be things that help support your body, your mind, your spirit, your nervous system. But you did not cause your suffering through some moral, spiritual, or energetic failure.

If you have hot flashes, depression, anxiety, exhaustion, rage, grief, numbness, fear, or despair, guess what? You are human.

I think many women are exhausted not only from actual pain, but from the relentless pressure to redeem it, transcend it, spiritualize it, or explain why they somehow attracted it.

Sometimes shit happens because we live in a deeply unpredictable world inhabited by fragile human beings in fragile human bodies.

That is not pessimism, it’s just reality.

And strangely enough, accepting that reality has brought me far more peace than trying to control it ever did.

What Healing Practices Are Actually For

There may still be tendrils of those old beliefs hiding in the recesses of my psyche. But the practices I choose and the ways I care for myself are no longer rooted in bargaining, or fear, or trying to be perfect.

I no longer meditate because I believe it will protect me from suffering - I meditation to feel my heart and my breath and my connection to life.

I no longer tend to myself because I think I can earn worthiness, health, or safety through perfect behavior. I tend to myself as an act of love.

I practice out of reverence for my own clarity and sense of presence. I practice to listen. I practice out of love for the experience of being alive, even with all its uncertainty, grief, beauty, and terror.

Because when care is rooted in fear, every symptom seems like failure. The diagnosis feels like a punishment. Every difficult circumstance or emotion becomes evidence that we are doing life incorrectly.

When care is rooted in reverence, it’s a magic balm.

We begin tending to ourselves not because we are trying to become invulnerable, but because we are worthy of tenderness regardless. We begin listening to our bodies instead of trying to force them into compliance. We begin understanding healing not as a destination where suffering disappears forever, but as a relationship with ourselves that deepens over time.

The Full Catastrophe

Every second I spend on this spinning ball of beauty we call Earth, let me be present to the full catastrophe. Let me tend to myself with the devotion I deserve. Let me practice for joy on the days that life feels easy. And let me practice on those days for the moments when the pain is grave, or the end is apparent. Let me be in awe of this very human, resilient, and also fragile body I have the privilege of inhabiting.

And let me stop believing that suffering is proof I failed.

This is what I wish for you, too.

Does This Piece Resonate? Here’s More.

The Anatomy of Reverence is an 18-minute guided meditation I created for the woman who may be at odds with her body. You don’t have to love your body or transcend your humanity. It is an invitation to experience your body differently. The Anatomy of Reverence is a journey to meet your body psyche with wonder.

You can receive the meditation, reflection guide, and accompanying email series. Just click below.