When Healing Feels Like Losing
The Unspoken Side of Body Grief
Something no one really prepares you for: sometimes healing feels like shit.
Not because you’re doing it wrong. Not because your body isn’t responding “well enough.” But because healing; real healing, asks us to let go of versions of ourselves we fought to keep alive. It demands grief, even in the moments that look like “progress” on paper.
This is one of the hardest and most tender truths about Body Grief. And if you’re new here or haven’t read my book yet (hi, I’m so glad you’re here), Body Grief is the term I use to name the deep sorrow and frustration that surfaces when our bodies no longer move, look, feel, or function the way they once did—or the way we were taught they should.
But here’s something I haven’t written about much until now:
Healing can cause Body Grief, too.
Let me explain.
I remember starting a new medication that finally eased some of my worst symptoms. Objectively, it was “good news.” My doctors were thrilled. My tests and scans looked better. I could do things I hadn’t done in months.
But in the quiet moments, I missed the clarity of slowness. I missed the intimacy I’d built with my body in survival mode. I missed the gentleness people extended to me when I looked visibly sick. I didn’t know how to exist in a body that was functioning but still hurting.
Sound familiar?
Maybe you’re recovering from an eating disorder and grieving the body the world once praised.
Maybe you’re aging and grieving the abilities you once had and feel invisible in society.
Maybe you’ve gained new mobility but lost access to community or benefits that helped you feel supported.
Maybe this version of healed doesn’t feel “good enough” for you.
Maybe your pain has eased, but the fear of it returning still lives in your chest.
Maybe you're finally “better,” and you feel lonely in a way you weren’t expecting.
That’s Body Grief, too.
Because healing isn’t always about feeling “whole again.” Sometimes it’s about finding a way to live inside the cracks; learning to honor both the relief and the rupture.
Sometimes healing is letting go of the version of yourself that got you this far.
The one who hustled through pain. Who made it work. Who carried you here.
We grieve them, too—not because they failed, but because we survived them.
Sometimes healing is saying, “maybe this is as good as it gets,” and learning to make a home inside that truth.
Other times, it’s holding out hope that things could get better; and allowing that hope to feel both terrifying and tender.
And often, healing is grieving the version of yourself you were told you were supposed to be; the idealized version the world projected onto you. The one you tried to become. The one you thought you needed to be in order to be worthy, lovable, or seen.
But here’s the thing: maybe that version was never meant for you.
And if you’ve ever been told, “Well, you don’t look sick,”
it’s like; no shit. I’m sick, not ugly.
We’re out here redefining what pain looks like. What healing looks like. What bodies look like. And it’s not always cute, clean, or linear. But it is honest. It’s real. And you’re not alone in it.
In This is Body Grief, I explore all of this—the layers, the contradictions, the messy middle. If this is resonating with you, I want you to know: You’re not broken. You’re not delusional. You’re not ungrateful.
You’re just telling the truth.
So today, I want to leave you with a few questions:
When has healing felt like a kind of loss?
What version of yourself have you grieved—even in the midst of getting “better”?
And how might you give yourself permission to feel both the hope and the hurt?
If this lands with you, I’d love to hear from you.
And if you haven’t read This is Body Grief yet, this might be the perfect place to start. You can grab your copy HERE and walk with me through the hard and sacred work of making peace with our bodies.
Here’s to all of us learning to hold the beauty and the ache of being alive.
What’s New!
Join me, Kathryn Budig and The Haus of Phoenix for Professor Phoenix on May 21 at 6pm EST where we will discuss all things Body Grief! Register Here!
With Gratitude,
Jayne