How do we heal others, when we're not healed?
"Take a day to heal from the lies you've told yourself and the ones that have been told to you."– Maya Angelou.
Black Girl in Healthcare is a reader-supported publication. I appreciate you for being here supporting my work as a writer. This newsletter requires much time and thought, and it feels so validating when you subscribe.
What does it mean to heal? For the healer, it has never been clear. Is it our calling or our most unfulfilled desire?
They told us to go forth and heal, to do no harm, to minimize suffering. In our naivete, we repeated the words. We didn’t realize how immense and intense the act of healing is.
It is a lesson that can only be learned after years of frustration and heartache inextricably tied to our work. Healing is a massive undertaking—it is to bring light into the darkest of places. It is a temporary refuge from the unpredictability of pain and hurt. It can be a glimmering cocoon of hope that breaks open too often and too easily, only to disintegrate.
When we see healing at its best, it is like piercing sunlight that revives someone from a slumber of despair. Yet these moments are fleeting. These bright moments only come when we choose to go beyond what’s expected, to act outside of the boundaries and to see those we serve as people, not patients.
Over time, I have come to realize that the art of healing is never a process that can be taught but only felt, lived, and experienced. We start to realize that our work as healers is not to share the solution but to help those entrusted in our care to create their own resolution. We have sorely overplayed our role. We are taught to believe our utility is in the complexity of providing, instead of the simplicity of guiding.
I wonder about those of us who choose healing as a craft. Or did it choose us?
It seems so interesting how so many of us walking this path have been broken. The majority of us can recall experiencing the deep suffering of loved ones firsthand. Is that what inspires us to commit to this difficult journey of eradicating pain from the Earth?
Yes, maybe we are drawn to the impossibility of our work to perfect deeply flawed and imperfect bodies, minds and souls.
Is it even possible to heal within a society founded on injustice? How do we create positive transformation in spaces built to gain from our demise?
How did we ever let healing become commodified, so that its highest version is only available to the highest bidder? How was it ever allowed for healing to be a tiered system, where only some people have a right to heal? How did we get to a place where the worth of our bodies is determined by the wealth we can accumulate?
We are made to believe the lie that, in this profit-driven work, we are healing people. But healing can never exist in spaces that do not prioritize connection, commitment, and comradery.
And we are seeing the aftershock reverberating of this reductive version of healing.
We are seeing a world where both our communities and our clinicians are unhealed but required to continue with life, unfazed. This is why we now can witness the atrocities that are happening in healthcare and remain unalarmed and unafraid.
We numb ourselves to the pain in order to do the work.
The pain of regret. Regretting that we are doing what we can and not what we should.
The pain of rejection. Rejecting our values and assimilating to how we are told to act instead of how we are called to act.
The pain of remorse. Remorse from witnessing how our inability to disrupt the apathy that has become pervasive in healthcare is allowing so many to suffer.
It’s deeply painful, but here is what hurts more: the limitations. We are no longer allowed to focus on helping restore, replete and renew those we care for. We are reprimanded for time, energy and attention placed on helping our patients transform, we are resigned to solely treat.
It is not until we stop the mindless doing
And sit
And think
And listen
And imagine
And envision
what things would be like if we realized that healing was never ours to bestow.
Instead, remember that healing is the accumulation of lessons we learn every time I encounter those who are ill and desperate for guidance.
It allows us to see how medicines and procedures can be necessary and also deeply insufficient.
We must remember that healing is a personal journey, and our gift is not to tell others what to want but help them discover what they want. It is our role to remind them to use this challenge as an opportunity to not solely eradicate illness but finally find wellness.
The most beautiful result of healing others is helping those in need never again take for granted the person they were beforehand. To never take for granted the wellness they had always seen as ordinary.
What would it look like if practicing medicine was grounded in self-love instead of self-sacrifice?
But to truly heal others, we must become comfortable with intimacy, authenticity and love as part of our work instead of fearing that this will compromise it.
So healer, how do we heal ourselves? By healing each other. First, we each must find where our craft has been broken. We then must find where we are broken. Finally, we must see each other’s brokenness. Acknowledge our pain. Affirm that it is valid. Advocate for change.
Together.
So we can finally experience the healing that we have devoted our lives to give others.
To peace & freedom for more Black girls in healthcare,
-Omolara
If you enjoyed this post, please click on the heart at the bottom or the top of this email. It helps others discover Black Girl in Healthcare. And if you really liked this piece, consider sharing it with a friend.
Thank you so much for investing in my work.
Does any of the above resonate with you? I would love to hear your thoughts!
Tell me about what you've dealt with in this realm or anything that you've been going through this week. Let’s make this a safe space for each other.