You're not doing it wrong

It hit me today — I’ve been carrying around some baggage.

Not the kind that unpacks itself in a dramatic meltdown, but the quieter kind.

The kind that lingers in your writing.

Hides in your throat.

And slips into your silences.

I’ve written about awakening more times than I can count.

Spoken about it in conversations, blogs, podcasts — even when nobody asked.

And for the longest time, I thought I knew why.

I thought I was just leaving a trail, just in case someone else needed a light to follow.

But today, something cracked open.

After a conversation that left me feeling more patronised than supported, I realised what had been quietly simmering underneath.

It was the feeling of having my healing explained to me —

By someone who wasn’t living it.

Someone who spoke in spiritual concepts but not from lived experience.

And while I know the intention wasn’t harm, it still landed like a bypass.

Like my very real, very human process was being repackaged into something tidy, distant, and "teachable."

And it wasn’t the first time.

The eye rolls.

The sighs.

The “she means well” tone from people who’ve already decided I’m not quite getting it.

I’ve been carrying that for years.

So let me say this clearly:

If I’ve ever made you feel that way — like I thought I knew better, or like your path needed correcting — I am so sorry.

Truly. That was never the point of my sharing.

Because here’s what I’ve come to understand, again and again:

No one is doing this wrong.

Not me.

Not you.

Not the people moving fast.

Not the ones still curled up, mid-crack.

We are all here to experience.

Not to impress, or perform, or perfect.

But to live it. Fully. Imperfectly. Authentically.

And while I’ve written from the edge of awakening before, I now realise I’ve also been writing from a place I’ve already outgrown.

Still orbiting the past, still trying to explain a chapter I’m no longer reading —

Just in case someone thought I wasn’t “doing it properly.”

But I’m not here to be digestible.

I’m here to be true.

And the truth is — I’m exhausted by the spiritual performativity.

By the masked superiority.

By the polished words that have never been lived.

I write because I am living it.

Messily. Slowly. Sometimes silently.

And I share so that nobody else feels stupid for not having it all figured out.

You’re not behind.

You’re not broken.

And you’re definitely not doing it wrong.

So if someone’s ever made you feel like your healing needs to look a certain way —

This is your reminder:

You don’t need to prove anything to anyone who isn’t in the arena with you.

We’re not meant to heal on cue.

We’re meant to heal in truth.

And that? That’s more than enough.