Holding Space for hard Days

I recently rewrote Part 2 of Health is a Long Game. The original version had more judgment in it than I intended—not just toward the healthcare system, but also toward those of us on the receiving end of care.

If I’m honest, I’ve sometimes felt frustrated when it seems like patients aren’t doing “enough” for themselves. But being in this business has a way of humbling me. I’ve been in those places too.  The places where even the smallest step feels impossibly hard, and where “doing for oneself” isn’t about laziness or resistance, but about exhaustion, fear, or simply not knowing where to begin.

As a provider, I’ve also learned that I’m not responsible for having all the answers. And that’s a relief, because no one has them all. But providers can be a safe place for someone to land. A place to vent, to wonder out loud, to feel seen, and to sort through what’s next. Sometimes that’s the most healing thing we can offer: not certainty, but presence.

I’ve shared this quote before and it continues to be relevant.  My therapist once told me,
“You’re perfect the way you are… and you must change.”

That paradox holds so much truth. Healing asks us to grow, to take responsibility, to move forward.  Yet it also asks us to honor where we are now, however messy or uncertain it feels.

And here’s another truth: sometimes treatments don’t work. And that doesn’t mean someone “doesn’t want to heal.” That judgment can feel like another wound. The reality is far more complex. We live in a system that can be confusing to navigate, financially out of reach, and often not built for people with complex or chronic conditions. Pain is not a moral failure. And not getting better fast, or at all, isn’t a moral failure either.

So what do we do? How do we keep going?

If you’re in a hard place, it may help to ask:
What kind of support do I really need right now?
Who can reflect back my strength without denying my struggle?
Does my provider see me clearly—not just my symptoms, but my story?

And for those of us offering care, the invitation is to stay curious:
What might this person need to feel safe enough to try again?
How can I gently nudge them forward while meeting them where they are at?

The journey to being better is a process. A long one. But even when it’s hard, even when the system fails us, a potential path is still there.

Be well,

Kristin