should healing be political?
Not knowing much isn’t a reason to withhold expression, so here I am, doing what I can in a perfectly imperfect way.
When I first stepped into the healing journey, I knew nothing about generational trauma, patriarchy, attachment theories, relational red flags, or the nervous system. What pushed me onto the path were the repetitive, painful patterns in my marriage and my volatile, avoidant relationship with my mom. For years, I resented her, unable to understand why she was the way she was with me and those around her. Eventually, I began to see that she had suffered more trauma than I had and that her pain had shaped her into the mother I experienced. That realisation softened my resentment but also ignited my fear of becoming like her, which drove me to start “healing.”
When I found Reiki and energy healing seven years ago, it reconnected me with the light and love within. However, it also set me on a path of “chasing healing and being nice.” I became aware of the sides of myself I disliked—critical, judgmental, comparative, unforgiving. Instead of integrating my shadow side, which is crucial to true healing, I hoped that becoming a bigger person would not only soften the darker sides of me but also alleviate the problems I was facing in life. I believed I was deeply flawed, that my chakras were perpetually imbalanced, and that if I just kept clearing and unblocking, my life would finally be easier, and I would be happy and peaceful. Of course, nobody said I might want to consider therapy, let alone telling me that healing is not a one-way street, and it’s normal to feel the way I felt due to our societal and cultural conditioning. #goodgirlsyndrome
After going down the rabbit holes for years, I started noticing how the healing industry operates. Basic energy healers will have you returning for endless sessions, buying crystals and essential oils, and collecting tools to “fix” your chakras. It’s not that they don’t help, but it’s not what people often need.
The ones who truly help and continuously do their inner work don’t market themselves as healers or masters. They remind you that while energy work can be miraculous, healing must be holistic, that not everything is yours to heal, and that what you put on externally is not key. Rather than bulldozing you through your pain and overriding your resistance, they help you understand your nervous system states, reminding you that dysregulation is not simply and always a poor mindset or skewed interoception, but often an intelligent and ongoing response to real, unresolved conditions and stressors (e.g., physical, chemical, emotional, mental, socioeconomic) in your life.
Before I discovered about the -isms, trauma, neurodivergence, and nervous system (thanks, Instagram), I didn’t realise I was perpetuating ableism toward others, and I wasn’t kind to myself either. I couldn’t understand why people can’t just get on with life or move on with their grief because I was avoiding mine unconsciously. Without considering my history, such as the significant in-utero trauma I carried (my mother had wanted to end her life while pregnant with me) and the childhood trauma I endured, I constantly felt like a failure when I compared myself to my peers. That internalised ableism only deepened my shame and made me chase healing even harder, believing something was wrong with me and I was the problem.
Eventually, I learned about shadow work, boundaries, the weight of cultural and societal conditioning, and how my wounds and traumas shaped my personality. Yet, at a later stage of continuously peeling back the layers, I began to see how often I had been over-responsible for others’ healing while neglecting my own truth, and I forgot how to live.
Truth is, despite after years of workshops, inner work, and self-inquiry, I still feel stuck at times. No matter how much I healed, the life I envisioned remained out of reach. That’s when I realised it wasn’t simply failure or the lack of actions, but it was a divine block, preventing me from becoming yet another manifestation coach preaching feel (or fake) it till you make it to the world wide web when there are entire populations living under systemic oppression and harm with little space to even imagine a future, let alone “manifest” one. I recognized my soul was never here to uphold a delusional, neo-colonial version of spirituality where my dreams were shaped by capitalist, consumerist ideals: living an idyllic and luxurious lifestyle in Bali, leading retreats while being totally unaware of the harm these rosy pursuits could bring to locals, ecosystems, and cultures.
While I believe each of us has our own dharma and soul lessons, it’s far too easy to use that as an excuse to ignore collective suffering. I refuse to live ignorantly in a bubble of privilege until trouble reaches my own doorstep. As a healing facilitator who knows that we are all interconnected, it feels even more important not to turn away from what is happening in the world. Yogic philosophy teaches that ignorance is the root of suffering, and I can see clearly how often healing is taught from that very place of avoidance or ignorance because it is easier. When we ignore what is causing mass suffering, we risk becoming blind to what is causing ours as well.
For example, imagine a client struggling with dysregulation due to the genocide happening in Gaza, being subjected to misogynistic treatment regularly, or as relatable as being stuck in unhealthy relationships. If I tell her she just needs more self-care, meditation, nervous system regulation, or energy work without considering the possible root causes of her nervous system responses, I risk harming her, and I’m just offering Band-Aids. What she might actually need first to start healing is for someone to affirm rather than to invalidate and judge her emotions: “You are not broken. Your feelings make complete sense given your situation.”
Dysregulation and “negative emotions” are not malfunctions, but forms of resistance to dehumanising systems and conditions, and to pathologise them is to silence the body’s way of demanding change. Sometimes, they may need a trauma therapist or support to leave the circumstances that are beyond repair and are hurting them, not more sessions that may subtly reinforce the idea that they are the sole problem when others are not taking accountability, or it’s just their energy system out of balance.
Clients in vulnerable states take our words to heart. If we don’t name how their distress is possibly tied to systemic conditions, we unknowingly uphold capitalism’s lie: that our sensitivity, empathy, or anger are flaws rather than natural responses to exploitation and suppression. We’re conditioned to see anger as destructive, emotions as inconvenient, and empathy as weakness. All of these narratives serve and empower those who profit or benefit from our silence, productivity, and compliance.
If practitioners do not become familiar with such invisible factors, we will eventually suffer in our own ways, too.
For years, I fell into this trap myself, believing I was broken and endlessly working on myself alone. Looking back, I wish someone had told me sooner: you don’t have to keep “fixing” yourself. The deeper invitation is to stop aligning ourselves with values created by systems that were never designed for our well-being and choose against what is anti-life. This is why I resonate with Hinduism—where deities embody not only love and light but also the fierce, protective energies that guard and slay for truth and justice.
To me, healing and regulation are not about making people more functional or productive in a life and soul-sucking system. It’s about helping them be with the emotions society demonises, to see clearly what’s unacceptable, and to act on it with wisdom and clarity. Regulation should give us the courage to speak the truth, not suppress it.
Ultimately, recognising that healing is political answered a longstanding question about my motivation for this work. It’s not to help clients simply cope with a system that strips us of our humanity, creativity, kindness, and vitality. It’s to support them in remembering their wholeness, reclaiming their truth, and choosing pathways that allow their best possible life to unfold.
