"Let's be honest, healing isn't always as freeing as it's made out to be. Sometimes, it feels like a role we're expected to play. If you've ever been the one in your relationships who "gets it," who holds space, sets boundaries, and always seems to have the right words, you know what I mean. You become the go-to person for emotional insight: the calm one, the regulated one, the evolved one."
"And while that might sound admirable, it can also be exhausting. When people start expecting you to always be the grounded one, it leaves very little room for you to just... be: to be messy, to be unsure, or to not have the words. Healing, in that context, starts to feel less like a personal journey and more like a performance you're expected to keep up."
"Therapy language is everywhere now. We talk about boundaries, triggers, nervous systems, and "doing the work" like it's second nature. And in many ways, that's a good thing; it means we're normalizing mental health. But it also means there's a new kind of pressure: the pressure to always sound self-aware, to always be healing, to always be okay. For a lot of us, especially women, queer folks, and caregivers, this pressure hits hard."
Therapy language has become commonplace, creating expectations to always appear self-aware and healed. People who habitually hold space, set boundaries, and soothe others often become the default emotional caretakers. That role can lead to hidden burnout, fatigue, and the erosion of personal needs. The pressure to perform healing affects women, queer people, and caregivers disproportionately. Healing does not require perfection or constant regulation. True healing involves authenticity, vulnerability, and moments of emotional rest. Reframing healing as lived experience rather than a performance helps individuals reconnect with their messy, uncertain selves beyond therapy-speak.
Read at Psychology Today
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