When Doing the Right Thing Hurts

The past month has asked more of me than I’d like to admit.

Nothing dramatic on the outside, no big changes, no obvious crisis. Just one of those situations that touches an old wound, demands clarity, and forces a hard decision long before I feel ready to make it. The kind of decision that doesn’t feel good… but is still the right one.

And that brings me face to face with the patterns shaped around my old wounds. 

We all carry patterns shaped by past experiences - moments when emotions felt risky, needs felt inconvenient, or instability perpetuated chaos. These old protective strategies often get louder during stressful interactions, holidays, or situations that feel uncomfortably familiar.

For me, those patterns come from living with complex trauma.

For you, they might come from burnout, caregiving, a turbulent season, or simply years of being the steady one for everyone else.

What matters is noticing when those old reactions get activated, and choosing how you want to meet yourself now.

During the holidays or challenging situations, these patterns get louder. Expectations multiply. Emotions run higher. And I notice two competing responses in myself:

• Abandoning my own needs because it once felt safer to disassociate than inconvenience or upset someone else

• Feeling overwhelmed by others’ needs because my system internalizes responsibility and goes into hyperdrive 

Ultimately, both reactions send me into shutdown - foggy thinking, low energy, a heaviness in my chest that whispers, “You’re failing. Try harder.”

But thanks to my continued efforts, something shifted.

Interrupting the Old Pattern

As I felt myself slipping into that familiar loop, I paused, placed my hand on my heart and chose something different.

Gentleness.

Compassion.

Right-sized expectations.

Not pushing myself to feel better.Not pretending I wasn’t hurting.Not shaming myself for being human.I focused on making gentle progress.

Some days, gentle progress looks like making tea and completing one meaningful task. Some days it’s naming the grief instead of outrunning it. Some days it’s recognizing, “My best today means not spiraling into the pit of my inner critic.”

Gentleness doesn’t erase the discomfort.But it dissolves the fight with myself that exacerbates my suffering.And that alone changes everything.

Living Inside Reality

The situation I’m navigating right now has also given me a sharp reminder - We cannot fix what we do not have control over.

That’s hard medicine to swallow. Especially for those of us that learned to “control” for challenging dynamics to create a temporary sense of safety. It’s tempting to push, plan, problem-solve, or rescue as a way to avoid helplessness.

But wishing we had power we don’t only intensifies the pain.

So instead, I’m practicing being grounded in reality by asking:

• What is within my control?

• What is clearly not in my control?

• And what small steps can I take, even though it feels awkward, scary, or heartbreakingly familiar?

Because sometimes staying kind, clear, and courageous means taking action long before feeling emotionally “ready.”

Sometimes “doing the right thing” hurts.

You can do hard things

I don’t share this for sympathy.I share it because you are likely carrying something too.

A conversation you’re avoiding.A decision you’re skirting around.Heartbreak, or anger over what’s happening in the news. Anxiety about the uncertainty of the future. A situation that stirs old wounds and mixes with present-day responsibilities.

So let me ask you gently…

What challenge are you being asked to accept right now?

• Where do you feel the tug-of-war between your needs and others’ expectations?

• Where do you notice the urge to disappear, overfunction, or control the uncontrollable?

• What would gentle progress look like today - not the ideal version, but the human one?

And perhaps the most important question -

What does it look like for you to stay kind, clear, and courageous here and now?

This isn’t about perfection.It’s about presence.It’s about honoring your humanity while navigating something genuinely hard.It’s about choosing compassion over self-attack, and reality over fantasy, one moment at a time.

If you’re in a situation that feels tender, messy, or overwhelming…you’re not alone.

May you accept the challenge, not by pushing yourself harder, but by showing up with gentleness, clarity, and courage for the person who needs you most, you.

If you’ve found value in what I wrote here and you want to support me in continuing to create, guide, write, and make space for deeper transformation, I invite you to buy me a tea.

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