Where Does the Truth Live?

Living in Contradiction: “Yes, AND”

I've never bought into the belief that things in life are a simple yes or no. I think this works for some people, but it never sat right with me. I feel like I am living the words "yes, AND" on repeat. I feel so many feelings every day that often contradict each other: I love something and resent it, feel excited and terrified, angry and relieved, all at the same time.

For a long time, I believed everyone who told me I was "too" passionate or emotional. I thought this meant something was wrong with me, that I needed to pick a side or commit to one feeling. But what if the contradictions aren't the problem, what if they're actually where the truth lives?

This whole concept of “yes, AND” came rushing back to me recently during a walk with a friend. She's on the verge of a huge life transition, something she's been wanting and is ready for, But the closer it gets, the more confused and uncertain she feels.

It's not that she doesn't want the new opportunity, she absolutely does. But she also has the right, and the need, to grieve what she's letting go of. I think we don't allow ourselves that space nearly enough.

We're so conditioned to think that excitement and sadness can't coexist. That if we're sad about leaving something behind, it means we're not truly ready or it’s not right. That grief somehow invalidates our choice. But what if it doesn't, what if the sadness is actually a sign of how meaningful our current life is? Could grieving what we're moving away from be exactly what allows us to step fully into what's next?

The way I see it, this idea of “yes, AND” isn’t resistance, it's expansion. It's saying, yes, I love this, AND it's also hard. Yes, this matters to me, AND I struggle with parts of it. It's a subtle shift, but it matters.

The Cost of Unprocessed Grief

I wonder how much of what we label as "regret" is actually unprocessed grief, a lack of honoring what we let go of in order to move forward. Not because we didn't want to let go and move on, but because we never gave ourselves permission to feel the loss.

When we don't acknowledge both sides, when we don't identify the actual loss, feel the sadness, and honor what was, we can't step into the new role, adventure, or life with our full selves. We bring forward a kind of unresolved ache that clouds the very thing we chose.

To grieve what we're leaving behind is what allows us to fully step into what we're becoming.

Living Two Truths at Once

You can be excited about the future AND sad about what's ending. You can want change AND grieve the comfort of familiarity. You can make the right choice AND still feel the weight of what it costs.

Maybe the practice isn't just about making the decision. What if it's about how we hold space and allow ourselves to live the full spectrum of our emotions and experience the complexity of being human. Maybe allowing ourselves permission to say, "Yes, I want this AND yes, I'm also letting go of something that matters" is how we truly honor our choices and prepare ourselves for the next step.

Healed?

My Struggle with the Word "Healed"

Okay, I might be on an island with this one but hear me out.

I think I have an issue with the word "healed" when it comes to trauma work. Every time I see or hear it, something in me cringes. Here's why: it implies there's something fundamentally wrong with you that needs to be fixed. And honestly? I'm struggling to get on board with that idea.

Here's how I see it, using the word "healed" feels like we're discrediting ourselves and each other. Think about what you actually did when you experienced trauma. You survived. You made it through experiences that could have destroyed you. How? Because you were wise enough, intuitive enough, and strong enough to figure out how to keep going.

Those behaviors you developed, often when you were just a kid, weren't mistakes or flaws. They were brilliant survival strategies. Your brain did exactly what it was designed to do, keep you safe. You embraced whatever patterns and responses you needed because they worked. They got you through.

A Different Way Forward

Instead of focusing on "healing," what if we decided to find gratitude and compassion for ourselves? And I mean real gratitude, the kind that recognizes you wouldn't be here if you weren't strong, intuitive, and savvy enough to figure out how to show up in situations where you felt unsafe.

You figured things out. You kept going when it would have been easier to give up. You showed up day after day, even when things felt impossible. I don't think you need to be "healed" from any of that. I think you need to honor it. Thank yourself for being so incredibly wise.

Once we can truly appreciate our own strength and wisdom, then we can start letting go of the patterns and beliefs that are no longer relevant. Not because they’re necessarily wrong, but because we've outgrown them. We can say to those old protective parts of ourselves, "Thank you for keeping me safe. I know where to find you if I need you again, but for right now, I've got this."

It's about evolution, not fixing what's perceived as “broken.”

My Own Path

Let me be clear, I haven't mastered any of this. This work is hard, and it's ongoing. Just when I think I've made real progress, a new pattern or belief shows up that I didn't even know was there. I wonder if it ever ends.

But what I will own, with so much gratitude, is a level of self-love that I never knew was possible. When I say it's amazing, that's only because I don't have a word that accurately describes how wonderful it actually is. That shift from seeing myself as someone who needs healing to someone who deserves gratitude for their strength. That's changed everything.

Maybe none of us need to be “healed” but instead, we just need to be seen and honored, for the survivors we've always been.