Nobody tells you that healing will cost you. They say “take care of yourself” like it’s easy. Like it’s a checklist: get your nails done, get a massage, go on a walk, light a candle, breathe deep. But real self-care? The kind that actually changes and transforms you? That kind will cost you something. Because everything comes at a cost.
Healing costs comfort—because comfort will keep you in bondage if you let it. It costs time, because rushing through your healing is just another form of avoidance. It costs honesty, especially when the version of you that survived isn’t the same version that can thrive. Letting go of her can feel like grief.
Healing can cost relationships too. Because when you finally realize peace is your birthright, you stop negotiating with people who only know how to bring chaos. And sometimes, healing costs your own silence. When you stop people-pleasing, start boundary-keeping, and finally speak up, not everybody will clap. And that’s okay.
Self-care isn’t always warm and cozy. Sometimes it’s shaking, sobbing, and surrendering. Sometimes it’s a lonely walk into the unknown. But oh, Child of the Most High—it is worth it. Because the reward for doing the work is becoming the kind of whole you didn’t even know was possible.
You don’t just get rest. You get peace. You don’t just get space. You get freedom. You don’t just get healing. You get you.
A Prayer for the Ones in the Middle of It
God,
Thank You for calling me into healing, even when it hurts. Help me not to fear the cost when You’ve already paid the price for my wholeness. Give me courage when it’s uncomfortable. Give me clarity when I’m confused. Give me peace as You protect and guide my process. And remind me, when it feels heavy, that nothing I lay down compares to what You’re building in me.
And so it is. It is finished. I am victorious. It is done. Amen.
