Healing Takes a Village

There’s a reason the phrase “it takes a village” has endured through generations. It’s not just about raising children—it’s about remembering that healing, too, is a relational process.

We were never meant to navigate our deepest struggles alone, but in a culture that often glorifies hyper-independence, expected resilience, and self-reliance, many of us have tried. We’ve white-knuckled our way through grief, shame, burnout, and transformation. We’ve done the work in isolation, unsure who we could trust—if anyone.

When I was struggling with complications with pregnancy, a traumatic delivery, and professional betrayal during postpartum, my circle did not come to my aid. Most people close to me wanted me to outsource my pain. “You should see someone,” many would say. It didn’t matter if I was seeing a therapist, a psychiatrist, and a coach—they never asked if I was and they never asked how they could help me. They just wanted my pain—and eventually me—to go away. What I know to be true is that a professional is only part of the healing circle. Anyone who has walked the path of healing knows, you need more than a 1 hour session a week with a professional to get the support you need to make real changes in your life.

Healing is not meant to be a solo expedition. At its heart, healing is relational, which means we don’t just need people—we need the right people. Let’s talk about what a healthy, supportive healing circle actually looks like—and why part of healing is also knowing who doesn’t belong inside it.

Your Healing Circle Needs…

1. The Grounded Guide

This is your therapist, coach, mentor, or spiritual companion—someone with training, presence, and the ability to hold space that doesn’t collapse.

They don’t tell you what to do. They don’t give you a three-step formula—but they hold the map.

They help you make sense of the terrain of your life, reflect what’s emerging, and create a structure where healing can unfold without being rushed.

This is the role I often step into as a trauma-informed coach: not to fix or advise, but to companion, to hold complexity, reflect back insight, and to walk with you toward integration.

2. The Safe Sounding Board

This is the friend you can text at midnight—not because they always have the right words—but because they don’t need to.

They’re not there to fix you, correct you, or offer spiritual one-liners. They often just listen. They sit in the discomfort with you. They know that sometimes being witnessed is what softens the pain.

They offer presence, not pressure.

3. The Champion

This person is your cheerleader reminding you that you’re not defined by your hardest moment.

They hype you up—not with hollow praise, but with genuine reflection.

They remind you of who you are when you’ve forgotten.

They say, “You’ve survived worse.”

“You’ve done harder things.”

“You are so much more than this moment.”

They hold your light steady when all you can feel is the dark.

4. The Joy Bringer

Not every moment in healing has to feel like deep excavation, some of the most restorative moments are the light ones—the moments that remind you you’re still alive, still laughing, still worthy of pleasure.

This is the friend who sends memes, who invites you into silliness, who plays music that moves your body and not just your mind.

Joy is part of healing. This person makes sure you don’t forget to laugh through the pain.

5. The Compassionate Mirror

They’ve been through their own mess.

They don’t offer you a ten-point plan—they offer their presence. They’ve lived it. They’ve survived it. They’ve made peace with things they once thought they never could and in doing so, they offer empathy that doesn’t condescend.

They don’t compare pain. They don’t rush you.

They just sit beside you and say, “Me too. You’re not alone.”

And Who Doesn’t Belong in Your Healing Circle…

Healing isn’t just about what you invite in. It’s also about what—and who—you release. Some people mean well. Others don’t. And many are simply unprepared to meet you in the depths.

Here are a few roles that don’t belong in your inner healing circle:

1. The Should-Shouter

They love advice—but not nuance.

They say things like:

“You should just move on.”

“You should be grateful.”

“You should try yoga.”

They value control over connection. They rush to offer answers instead of listening for meaning. And even if their advice lands once—it often bypasses the tenderness underneath.

2. The Twister

They seem like a safe space… until they aren’t.

They nod, they listen—then later, your vulnerability becomes gossip, ammunition, or something to hold against you.

These are the people who misuse your pain. They don’t hold your truth—they manipulate it.

3. The Silent Watcher

They witness your struggle from a distance—but stay silent. They watch from the sidelines—with popcorn. They often highlight your troubles but offer no hand.

This isn’t neutrality—it’s spectacle. If they can see and understand that you need help and make no offer, they aren’t rooting for you, they are waiting for you to fail.

4. The Performer Critic

They want you healed—but mostly for their own comfort.

They praise your progress when it looks neat and linear. But when you unravel, get messy, or fall back into old patterns—they pull away or push blame.

They want your pain sanitized, not seen.

5. The Concerned Condescender

They cloak their judgment in the language of care:

“I’m just worried about you…”

“I don’t think you’re handling this very well…”

0r my favorite, they preface or end things with: “I’m concerned.”

Their words might sound soft, but the energy underneath feels hard. It’s not about your well-being—it’s about their discomfort.

True concern comes with kindness. This isn’t that.

Curate Your Circle With Care

Healing is not just sacred—it’s sensitive—and not everyone has earned the right to sit beside you in your unraveling—or your rising from the dark. I’ve learned this the hard way—I was tired of suffering in silence, so I tried to heal out loud—and that opened up so much discomfort from others and I was ridiculed with second-hand shame. I made a mistake in thinking that most of my people were more ready to meet me—but most of them performed care, rather than embodying it.

Build a circle that holds you, honors you, and helps you stay connected to your truth—not to their projections.While The healing journey is yours, you were never meant to walk it alone.