The healers hangover

The Healing Healer’s Hangover

Finding Where the Balance Is With Helping

There’s this thing that happens after you've done a lot of inner work — when you’ve unravelled old patterns, sat with your shadows, learned to say no, and stopped over-functioning for people who never asked you to.

You start to see things.

Not in a woo-woo, psychic sort of way (although… sometimes that too 😏) —

I mean you start seeing loops.

Outdated beliefs. Thought spirals. Situations that repeat themselves in slightly different clothing, all heading toward the same emotional end point.

You see it because… you’ve lived it.

You know that particular ache.

You know the fork in the road when it shows up again.

And now you’re watching people you love play out those same kind of stories.

And every part of you wants to say:

“Wait! I’ve got the map! You don’t have to go through this the hard way!”

But here’s the uncomfortable truth I’m sitting with — right now, in real time:

Most people don’t want your map.

Not until they’ve been through the brambles and are ready to stop walking in circles.

And even then — they might still need to draw their own.

Here’s something I didn’t expect:

Healing one pattern doesn’t close the book — it often opens a new chapter.

I’m not just navigating boundaries anymore.

I’m navigating the urge to defend them.

To explain myself softly — just in case someone misunderstands my “no.”

To fall into teacher mode mid-conversation because I can see what’s really playing out beneath their words.

But I’m learning to pause.

To catch myself just before I start over-explaining.

To notice the part of me that still wants to “help,” even when no one asked — and offer that part a seat, not a steering wheel.

I don’t always catch it in time.

Sometimes I talk too much, then walk away thinking, “Ah… there it is again.”

But that’s the process.

This isn’t mastery.

This is the in-between bit. The rewiring. The gentle returning.

Maybe that’s why I write blogs now.

Because it’s everything I’ve learned — and everything I’m still learning —

poured into a space where it can land without expectation.

No pressure. No performance. Just words — waiting for the ones who are ready to find them.

I’ve found myself saying this a lot lately:

> “I’ve actually written a blog about that — it’s there if you ever fancy reading it.”

And I mean it.

No hidden agenda. No secret hope they’ll click.

Just a breadcrumb, gently offered.

Because when someone chooses to seek something out, it lands differently.

It’s no longer advice. It’s resonance.

Healing is never a final destination.

There’s no “complete.”

Finding yourself is a spiral — a constant cycle of conscious recognition.

Recently, I noticed this new piece I hadn’t fully seen before.

Not because it wasn’t there, but because I hadn’t recognised it as a whole pattern.

But I see it now.

I’ve always known people heal through their own experiences.

I’ve understood that helping too soon can sometimes interfere with the very lesson they came here to learn.

The depth of conversations reach people differently, depending on where they're at in their own lives.

But now… I’m embodying that knowing.

I’m learning where the balance sits between caring and carrying.

Between being present and being over-involved.

Between supporting with love… and overgiving from habit.

We never stop learning.

And right now, I’m learning again.

Not from rock bottom — but from the middle.

From the moment I notice the impulse and choose a new response.

I’m still finding my balance with helping.

Still learning where love ends, and self-sacrifice begins.

Still learning that sometimes, holding my own frequency is the most loving thing I can do.

And I’m okay with that.

Because if this spiral has taught me anything…

it’s that clarity always comes back around —

and every layer leads me closer to peace.