The Difference Between Healing
and Leadership
The world cannot keep waiting for wounded healers to get out of your own way
Originally published February 27, 2026 • Updated September 10, 2026

Last year I got sick again. Although it’s always been hard to tell where the different illnesses end and begin. Their overlapping fabrics woven together like a quilt that smothers you instead of keeping you warm. Every symptom and set of worries seemingly bound together in some unsolvable tesseract that requires advanced degrees to crack open.
My chronic illness is mostly invisible on the outside. It shape shifts. Hides, evolves, and transforms. Using my thoughts and stress hormones as fuel. Anxiety, fear, and obsession play in a symphony of discordant symptoms that loop and twang inside my body like the worst 4th grade orchestra you’ve ever heard.
I am a somaticizer with a hypersensitive nervous system. Meaning I feel things deeply in the body. And my body overreacts. Sensory data comes in and becomes corrupted. The channels between the gut/brain are compromised, like messages getting intercepted and coded badly. The normal pathways of safety, non-existent. I have paradoxical reactions to almost everything that is supposed to make you feel chill.
What gives others a respite sends me into spiral. This is why I don’t do breathwork, cold plunges, vision quest, extreme fasting, or other discipline focused spiritual practices that use force or stress as the mechanism for transformation. This is why my medicine work is soft and meandering.
A System Raised On Alert
I’ve spent most of my life in fight, flight, or freeze. Sympathetic hypervigilance on guard for any perceived threat. Crashing out after running too hard in the danger zone.
This is how and why I became an addict. Attempts to soothe and calm my overloaded system by any available means. To manage my feelings and sensitivity by blunting and numbing. And when I finally got sober, it got way worse.
Spending thousands of dollars and getting nowhere with countless doctors, specialists, tests, and diagnoses created a desperate willingness to open to new ideas and beliefs. That’s when I found TMS (Tension Myositis Syndrome) aka The Mindbody Syndrome.
Essentially, this is a protective state where your brain creates symptoms to keep you safe from perceived danger. Stress illness created as a distraction from trauma. Taking your attention away from overwhelming feelings that your subconscious deems too dangerous. The more attention you pay to diagnosing and solving yourself, the louder and more persistent your illness will become. And boy, does the mind like to get creative.
I learned everything I could about the connection between energy, emotions, thoughts, and illness in the body. I healed myself from severe chronic pain, addiction, and dozens of other symptoms. For over 10 years.
The Healers Are Not Alright
During this repeated pilgrimage into the depths of myself, I became a coach. Because I am an expert at healing. I’ve been down into the dark shadow realm so many times, the path back home is well worn. I learned how to do this while in altered states with plant medicines. And then I learned how to hold others through it.
This is, admittedly, a paradoxical path that has often made things worse, but somehow, it’s my true calling. There was never any other way for things to be. My acceptance of that has led to my liberation.
The list of things this body has lived through started to make me believe it’s possibly unkillable. Resilience is one of my superpowers. That’s what I reminded myself of when early last year, I started having a recurrence of symptoms that were so severe I could barely function. It consumed me. I fell into a deep state of depression and anxiety, mostly invisible on the outside. Stuck in a loop of trying to solve myself. To feel relief. Sitting with extreme physical pain, shame, and feelings of failure. All while leading retreats, teaching, coaching, and holding space. Singing by day, and suffering by night.
The Healers Are Not Alright
When you are in service for a living, you learn to keep going. You learn how to hold others while you are walking through fire. It’s just part of the work we’re here to do. It’s part of the commitment we make with Spirit when we offer ourselves in service to the greater good.
There is an agreement required when you live the wounded healer archetype. A declaration that “I can hold this, too.” Even when your own wounds are unhealable, they become the lived experiential wisdom that is required to lead. Not out of arrogance, but knowing that you have the capacity where others do not. The ability to support the collective is born from the depths of the shadows you have come to love in yourself. Because that is where the jewels are found. And showing others this power in themselves is your gift.
And yet, as I found myself in the midst of another round of suffering with another unsolvable mystery illness, I wondered…
Does it actually have to be this way?
Do I need to be in a state of healing myself constantly to serve?
How is my suffering helping my family? My clients? Humanity?
I was missing something. After all these years. Something simple and obvious. Something right in front of my eyes that I just could not see. I was so tired. Worn out and enraged and drowning in the infinite sea of Why me? Why is this back again? Can’t I just be happy and well?
And so all last year, I sat in the wretched discomfort of it. This desperate need and desire to slow down. To let go of solving. Fixing. To stop healing as effort and identity. To admit to and sever the attachment to the belief that I am fundamentally broken and will forever be a victim of my circumstances and body. Feeling sorry for myself and blaming myself for not being perfect.
I saw it so clearly. The overgiving. Overfunctioning. People pleasing. Self-sacrifice just because I can. Needing to be chosen and liked and approved of. My own wounding playing out again and again in my work. If you really want to get in touch with your shadows, start a spiritual business.
I got messages from the medicine. Trust life. The birds are not afraid. The trees are immortal. On the other side of fear is love. Always. Lighten up, babe.
If I wanted to be a real leader and stand in my true capacity, the wounded healer had to stop needing to be healed herself. I had to let go of my spiritual perfectionism. To forgive myself. To stop choosing to believe the worst things about myself and start believing the best things. To drop the act that I am in need of saving. And save myself.
Fuck.
Integration was ripping out the old wiring. It was demanding that I practice my wholeness and own my capacity. That I reclaim my sovereignty and stand in my power. It demanded embodiment.
Being embodied is about trust. It’s about owning your self-worth. Loving yourself fully, especially your shadows. And it required me to allow myself to be unhealed. To take a vacation from my problems. To stop digging and searching, because there is no end to what you will find down there. To stop believing that I have to figure out a series of actions to follow to be okay. To open up so Spirit can come inside and do magic in my life.
In the words of Anne Lamott, life said simply… “Hallelujah anyway.”
Because healing is our natural state. It’s effortless and automatic. It’s what happens in the state of compassion. When love takes up our attention and presence. We learn to accept ourselves, and suddenly, everything softens. Illness fades and vitality returns. And we finally have the eyes to see ourselves fully as the ones we’ve been waiting for all along.
Related Podcast Episode
EP 164 | THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HEALING AND LEADERSHIP
Turn Insight into an Embodied Way of Life
I offer coaching, plant medicine guidance, psychedelic integration, and ceremonial retreats and events.
