You Don’t Owe Anyone Access To Your Healing

This may be a hard pill to swallow for some—even you, if you find yourself in this space—but healing isn’t always a shared experience. Healing looks and feels differently for everyone. Every situation is different. Every coping style is different. Everything is different. The one thing that stays the same? You don’t owe anyone access to your healing. 

That doesn’t make you mean or distant. People who don’t want to understand might tell you that you’ve changed, and you probably have. What you need to acknowledge is that that isn’t a bad thing. You’re healing. There were days I looked in the mirror and couldn’t tell if I was falling apart or finally coming together. That’s where I realized I wasn’t ready to let people back in because I needed to learn myself again. I needed to spend time identifying the issues and working through them. If you find yourself running out of excuses to tell people, hiding from your phone, or feeling guilty about putting yourself last on your list again, it might be time to start healing truly.

I didn’t even realize I was doing the things I’m about to tell you when I started healing from one of the hardest seasons of my life, but I can tell you this: they work.

Here’s why you don’t owe anyone access to your healing:

You’re allowed to cope. 

This is one of the most vulnerable parts of the healing journey because if you’re not mentally strong, you can slip into coping mechanisms that aren’t healthy. I think this is what makes the people who care about you so adamant about being present during your healing. So let me say this first: if you feel like you’re coping in an unhealthy way, you should tell someone and get the proper help. 

Coping for me looked like alone time. I had to learn how to be with myself again. My friends are all living their lives, and “relaxing” or “hanging out” doesn’t look the same with a baby—no matter how normal someone might try to make it feel. That’s a less-than-ideal reaction, but it’s real. So I had to find ways to quiet my mind and calm my spirit: cooking with music, reading my bible, watching podcasts, playing in makeup, changing my hair, going to Bedside Baptist on Sundays. Simple things, but things I still enjoyed.

You’re allowed to say “no” and “not right now.”

One of the most important things I learned was that “no” and “not right now” are two different answers—even if the person you say “not right now” to assumes you actually meant “no.” With a new baby, even driving to Kroger can be stressful because my baby hates the car, so I don’t go many places. Not because I don’t want to, but because what it puts my child and me through rarely seems worth it in the end. 

Now, when I say “no,” I mean that, too. It’s a complete sentence and it doesn’t require a supporting clause. Sometimes I just don’t want to. I’m not tired. I’m not sad. I just don’t want to. And that’s okay—it doesn’t need to be explained.

The people who love you will understand—eventually.

A key detail here is the people who love you, because not everyone will understand. You may lose friendships and relationships during your healing, especially if you revoke access to your process. Some people don’t have the emotional capacity to understand that it isn’t a personal attack on your relationship with them. If that happens, let them go. 

The people who love you may feel hurt by their lack of access, but they will understand that it is temporary—most importantly, necessary. If they truly love you, they will understand with time. I promise.

You deserve to sit with yourself during your time of healing.

When one of my kids hurts themselves, the first thing I do is examine the injury, apply whatever healing method they need, and then comfort them. Emotional healing is no different. When you’re hurting, you have to examine your place of injury (or in this case, the source), figure out what you need to begin healing it, and then comfort yourself. You don’t need to wait on someone to save you. 

Sitting in your healing can be painful at first, but it is worth it. You deserve to save yourself—because no one can take that from you, and you are capable of healing.

Feel your feelings. Eat ice cream. Journal. Do whatever you need to do to face those feelings head-on. You are bigger than any problems you might be facing, and if you don’t feel like you can handle it, I promise you, God can—and He will. I’m a living witness.

Your healing is the priority, not everyone’s feelings.

That’s it. That’s the message. Right now, you are the priority and anyone who interferes with that will have to wait until you’ve reached the healing you deserve. Worrying about everyone else’s feelings might even be one of the main reasons you’re on this healing journey in the first place.

You will find peace.

If you do the work, you will find peace. Again, you might lose some relationships along the way. You may never do some of the things you used to do. Things may feel different from now on, but peace will find you—and when it does… don’t let it go. Continue to put yourself first. Continue to prioritize your mental wellness and healing. Healing is an ongoing process, so don’t neglect it when you start to see the sun again. I’ve made that mistake before. 

You will find your way back to yourself.

Once the peace settles in, you’ll start to recognize yourself again. You will get that feeling that comes from deep within—the one that lets you untense your shoulders, soften your face muscles, and truly breathe. You may not be the person you once were, but you’ll see the person you are now, and you’ll know deep down that you’re even better than before. 

Here’s to healing, my friend.