There was a situation recently that I would have rather not been in. It wasn’t dramatic or life-changing — just one of those moments you wish someone else could take the lead. But it was mine to handle.

I had to straddle the responsibilities of doing my job and pushing aside the awkwardness that comes how that might be perceived by others.

In the past, something like this would have undone me. I would have replayed every word, picked apart every expression, and convinced myself I’d been too harsh or heartless. I would have clambered for forgiveness, even if I hadn’t done anything wrong, because being ‘good’ used to mean being soft, accommodating, endlessly available.

But that’s changed.

This time, I did what needed to be done — calmly, fairly, and without abandoning myself in the process. I didn’t swing to people-pleasing or defensiveness. I didn’t bend to make things easier for someone else. ‘It is what it is’ isn’t detachment; it is acceptance — a steady recognition that I can’t control how someone else chooses to see me or the situation.

In the past, I would have mistaken my calmness for coldness, and boundaries for cruelty. But I’ve learned that’s not heartlessness — it’s emotional regulation and self-respect. It’s the ability to care, to feel, but not collapse into those feelings. To hold space for discomfort without drowning in guilt or self-blame.

I could still feel it in my body — that familiar tightness in my chest — but I wasn’t fused with it. I just noticed it. That’s what healing looks like when it starts to integrate: the space between reaction and response getting wider, steadier, quieter.

A lot of that comes from EMDR sessions with my psychologist. EMDR doesn’t just process trauma; it rewires how your body and brain respond. My nervous system no longer interprets tension as danger. I can stay present, feel uncomfortable, and still trust myself.

And that’s the biggest difference. I didn’t chase approval or scramble to make things right. I could sit in the discomfort of ‘this is awkward’ without turning it into ‘I’m bad’. My self-worth didn’t hinge on whether someone else understood my intentions.

It’s not indifference. I still care. I just don’t chase. I respond, not react.

You’re not just thinking differently when that happens — you’re feeling differently. Your behaviour catches up.

That’s what healing really is, allowing old ‘training’ to loosen its grip and moving through life on your own terms.