When Healing Feels Too Hard: Why We Avoid Our Stories

Avoidance makes perfect sense when you understand the job your nervous system is trying to do.

If something once felt overwhelming, dangerous, humiliating, violating, or too painful to hold, your brain may have learned a simple rule: “Don’t touch that.” It’s protective. It’s efficient. And sometimes, it’s the only reason you made it through.

Avoidance can look like a lot of things:

• Staying busy so you never have to feel
• Changing the subject when certain topics come up
• Minimizing (“It wasn’t that bad”) even when your body says otherwise
• Numbing with scrolling, substances, overworking, over-functioning
• Keeping relationships shallow because intimacy feels risky

Someone can look “fine” on the outside while carrying a story they cannot bear to revisit. Sometimes the story is a breakup. Sometimes it’s a childhood that didn’t feel safe. Sometimes it’s trauma that lives in the body for years because speaking it out loud feels like it could break you.

So, if you avoid, I’m not here to shame you. I’m here to help you understand yourself.

The Hidden Costs of Avoidance

Avoidance can bring short-term relief. It’s like exhaling. “Okay, I don’t have to feel that right now.”

But over time, what we avoid doesn’t disappear. It tends to leak out sideways.

Avoidance can show up later as:

• Anxiety that doesn’t seem to match your present life
• Depression, numbness, or disconnection
• Repeating painful relationship patterns
• Feeling stuck, even when you’re trying hard
• Physical symptoms that carry stress in the body

Ignoring trauma can be like leaving a monster in the closet. You don’t have to look at it for it to still affect how you sleep, how you relax, how you trust, how you love.

And here’s the part that can feel confusing: you may not even connect the dots until a new season of life presses on old wounds. A new relationship. A baby. A loss. A move. A promotion. A quiet moment thatremoves the distractions.

That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. It just means your system is ready to get your attention in a new way.

What If I’m Not Ready Yet? Planting Seeds Counts

I want to say this clearly: healing can’t be rushed.

If you’re not ready to face your past, that’s okay. Sometimes readiness comes in layers. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is simply admit, “This exists,” and take one small step toward support.

Here are a few “seed-planting” steps that still matter:

• Learn about trauma responses (without forcing yourself into the details)
• Save a resource for later, even if you’re not ready today
• Practice one grounding skill that helps you feel safer in your body
• Name what feels unsafe about going there, without judgment
• Tell yourself: “I can come back to this when I’m ready.”

Sometimes the first step is information. Sometimes it’s permission. Sometimes it’s just a gentle internal shift from “I should be over this” to “Of course this is hard.”

It’s Not Fair: Naming the Unfairness of Healing

There’s a grief that comes with healing that people don’t always talk about.

It’s not fair that you have to carry the consequences of someone else’s choices. It’s not fair that you have to spend time, money, energy, and emotional labor to recover from something you didn’t ask for.

If anger shows up here, I welcome it. Anger can be a healthy signal that something mattered and something was wrong. If grief shows up, that makes sense too.

Try saying it out loud, exactly as it is: “I shouldn’t have to do this work, but I deserve healing.”

That sentence holds both truths. And both truths can live together.

Brave and Afraid at the Same Time

One of my favorite phrases is: brave and afraid at the same time.

That’s often what healing looks like in real life.

Not fearless. Not perfectly ready. Not totally confident.

Just willing. Willing to take the next small step while your body still feels uncertain.

And over time, those small steps become momentum:

• You share one honest sentence with a safe person
• You notice a pattern without judging yourself
• You set one boundary that protects your peace
• You start therapy, or you return after a long pause
• You realize you’re not only surviving anymore

You don’t have to force yourself into the deep end. You can walk in slowly, with support, and still be moving toward freedom.

Gentle Practices to Try This Week (No Deep Dive Required)

If you’re not ready to “process everything,” I want to offer practices that support safety first.

A 60-second grounding reset

Look around and name:  

• 5 things you see
• 4 things you feel (feet on the floor counts)
• 3 things you hear
• 2 things you smell
• 1 thing you can taste

This tells your nervous system: “I am here, and I am safe right now.”

A compassionate truth statement

Try one of these:

• “Avoidance is a survival strategy, not a character flaw.”
• “I can take this one step at a time.”
• “I’m allowed to go slowly.”

A tiny curiosity question

Without forcing answers, ask:

• “Where do I feel stuck?”
• “What topic do I avoid most?”
• “What does my body do when I get close to this?”

A safe container for later

If journaling feels too intense, try a “parking lot” note: Write one sentence about what you’re avoiding, then write: “I’m not solving this today. I’m just naming it.”

A Note About EMDR and Trauma Processing

Sometimes people ask, “Is EMDR helpful when I feel avoidant?”

It can be, but the most important part is pacing and preparation. In good trauma-informed work, we build safety and stability first. We don’t force reprocessing. We don’t rush your nervous system. We work with your readiness, not against it.

If you’ve been avoiding your story because it feels overwhelming, that’s often a sign that support and structure matter. Whether it’s EMDR or another trauma-informed approach, you deserve a process that honors your window of tolerance and helps you feel in control.

Final Thoughts

If healing feels too hard right now, I want you to know you’re not alone.

Avoidance is not proof that you’re failing. It’s often proof that something in you has been trying to protect you for a long time.

And when you’re ready, healing does not have to be a dramatic leap. It can be a seed. A breath. A resource saved for later. A whisper of willingness.

You can be brave and afraid at the same time. And you still get to heal.

Frequently Asked Questions