I'm Tired of Healing...

but I'm choosing to do it.

The Choice, by Alex Elle, Buy Here

I've been healing for over 11 years. As I embarked on this journey, I stood at the edge of my life many times, overlooking every choice, failure, joy, and success. Hoping and believing that as the years went by, the weight of this hard soul work would lift, and the trips through the mud of mending would lessen. That hope was nothing more than a dreamer’s dream. I believed, naively, that each layer of pain shed would mean a more easeful step forward. Yet here I am, still knee-deep in a journey far from whimsical, easy, or straightforward. Far, far, far away from over.

Purple Rain, by Alex Elle

If I'm being frank, I didn't sign up for this. I would've (immediately) opted out if I had known all those years ago that healing would get harder and more intense—that the mud would, at some points, be thicker than the pain I was initially pushing through. However, even with that being true, this voyage has shaped my identity in multiple ways. Daily, the process of figuring my mess out encourages me to rise, face the accountability mirror, and deliberate with my time, energy, and how I show up for myself.

Even on the days I want to quit, I don't. I choose to heal with intention and purpose. It’s the throw-in-the-towel days where deep transformation happens, and that is often the hardest part.

When I'm in my stillest moments, I’ve been practicing being radically honest with myself. Telling the truth, even when it isn’t pretty, is a real test. And it’s in those instances where I occasionally wonder if I would've really chosen to embark on this path had I known the depths of the valleys. I search my mind for regrets, cradling the weight of each pro and con. If I had known that healing wasn’t just about fixing but also practicing, acknowledging, and shame-free witnessing, I likely would’ve closed the door when it showed up. Hindsight is 20/20, so they say. And, on top of that, I strongly believe that healing chose me.

Fiery Floor, by Alex Elle

Some days, the weight of living a mindful and intentional life is heavier than I'd like. There's so much more I have to learn and unpack that feels much easier to just ignore. But I don’t. I keep my promise to myself, and I press forward.

The other day, I told a friend I'm tired of being the bigger person. I'm over trying to be emotionally mature and available. I'm tired of being the one doing the work, in many cases, alone. I don't want to carry this load anymore. Keeping the cycles as they are would be much easier than breaking them. As intense as it may sound, sometimes, that is my truth, and it can trump the healing, growth, and changes that have come from doing the soulwork.

Yet, I choose this path, not because it is painless but because it's critical.

Gentle Reminder, by Alex Elle

All of this isn’t just important for me but for my lineage. I'm sharing this today because often, healing is sold as this dream of ease and continuous overcoming and celebration. If this journey has taught me anything, it's that many things can be true at once. I can hate it here, in the trenches of healing, some days, and still know that not healing is not an option. I am choosing this on purpose, even when it's hard—and even when I don't want to learn another damn thing about myself.

For anyone who needs this today: Every lesson learned challenges our spirit and inspires the deepest corners of our relationships with ourselves and others. Though fatigue and frustration will sometimes whisper yell in our ears, we must keep in mind that healing is not the antagonist in our story. It is a compass guiding us even when the journey feels endless, slippery, and dark.

We are all learning that our healing practice is not a starry-eyed love affair. It’s demanding, muddy, and risky a lot more times than not. But, in the same breath, our healing is an anchor that can tether us to intention, urging us all to tread deliberately on our paths, becoming a non-judgmental witness to the world and ourselves.