Learning to Trust My Body Again

A couple of years ago, I was in such relentless pain that I asked every doctor I saw if they could put me in a coma. My body felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from : unpredictable, unsafe, untrustworthy. Every minute was a battle. After five straight years of that battle, all I wanted was to leave my body just so I could survive it. And I got good at doing that.

Those years changed me in a million ways. I’m still learning how to live inside the truth of who I’ve become—especially in the ways the pain shaped me that I don’t always love.

Right now, I’m practicing what it means to feel safe in my body again. Sitting with it in meditation. Letting my heart soften. Feeling my chakras open and energy move through places that were numb for so long. I’m learning what a body feels like without constant pain. I’m learning what life feels like without constant pain. And honestly? It’s hard to trust. After so many years of being blindsided by excruciating symptoms and shattered dreams, believing that my body won’t betray me again feels like a risk.

So I speak it out loud throughout the day:

“I trust my body.”

“I am safe in my body.”

Because somewhere along the way, survival taught me fear. I recognize what a privilege it is to be able to say this without pain.

But my body keeps showing me what it’s capable of now—again and again. And it’s amazing. Still, the fear lingers, born from years of simply trying to stay alive.

I’m learning to give myself grace for that fear, and grace for the ways I adapted during those awful years. I know I’m not alone in this. Every time I talk to friends with chronic illness, that same question comes up:

“Can my body be trusted to do this?”

So for anyone else walking this road—I hope you learn to trust your body again too. And I hope you extend grace to yourself on the days when it feels impossible. 🤍