Healing Isn’t Always Hot Girl Summer — Sometimes It’s Crying in Pyjamas
We love the idea of "hot girl summer": radiant, glowing, fierce, shining. But healing doesn’t always look like that. Sometimes healing is soft, messy, tearful, and hidden under blankets in pyjamas. That’s okay. That’s real. That’s part of the journey.
The Culture of Polished Healing and Why It Fails
Social media, blogs, and even many self‑help narratives show healing as tidy, triumphant, “a glow up.” But the unshowy reality often includes dark nights, backslides, tears, exhaustion, confusion, and despair. When we compare ourselves to those highlight reels, we feel broken.
But healing is not a stage show. It’s a process. Recognising that the shadows are part of the work — not a regress — helps you stay grounded, compassionate with yourself, and courageous through the storms.
What “Crying in Pyjamas” Moments Reveal
- Emotional overflow is a release: Tears, frustration, rage — these are not signs you’re failing; they are part of the system detox, softening hard edges.
- Vulnerability is strength: Being unfiltered, messy, and raw is courageous. You don’t always have to wear your strength as armor.
- Rest is sacred: Some days your soul needs pause more than performance. Healing includes rest, solitude, retreat.
- Small moments matter: The journal scribble, the soft cry, the breath after a wave of emotion — these are tiny stitches in your healing quilt.
Why So Much Healing Happens Behind Closed Doors
Behind “public healing” lies long stretches of darkness, disorientation, inner wrestling, and emotional debris. Here’s why those private hours matter deeply:
- They let you process without performance pressure.
- They connect you more to your inner truth than outer applause.
- They allow non‑linear movement — forward, backward, sideways — without judgment.
- They cultivate resilience — because you learn to hold your own heart when no one else is watching.
How to Embrace Unfiltered Growth
1. Give Yourself Permission to Be Unpolished
Say it: “I’m allowed to feel ugly, tired, messy, raw.” Let your emotions surface without forcing them into pretty narratives.
2. Hold Space for Dark Days
Mark time in your calendar for “no expectations.” Let days be slow. Let tears come. Let your body rest. These aren’t regressions — they’re part of the unfolding.
3. Name What’s Underneath
Behind the tears might lie grief, anger, fear, disappointment, longing. Intuitively ask: what am I really mourning? What aspect of me is demanding attention?
4. Use Rituals for Emotional Safety
Create small rituals: a candle, a journal, soft music, warm tea, cozy clothes. Rituals anchor you when the storm feels overwhelming.
5. Allow Slowness & Micro Progress
Don’t measure healing solely by big leaps. A calmer morning, a deeper breath, a kind thought — those are wins. Celebrate micro shifts.
6. Speak to Yourself Gently**
When the inner critic rages, respond with compassion: *“I see how hard you’re doing. I’m here with you.”* Let your voice be kind even in your darkest hours.
7. Know That You Do Not Go Through This Alone
You don’t have to carry all your emotion in isolation. Reach out: a friend, a therapist, a journal, a community that allows messiness rather than demands perfection.
Exercises to Lean Into the Mess
Exercise 1: “Tear Letter”
Write a letter to your pain, anger, grief — let it pour. No edits. Cry if you need. Destroy it (burn, tear, bury) or keep it sealed. The act validates your inner world.
Exercise 2: “Slow Day Inventory”
On a day when you feel stuck, list 3 simple acts of nourishment — tea, nap, write, stretch, listen — and do them without pressure.
Exercise 3: Emotion Weather Log
Every few hours, note your “emotional weather” (sunny, stormy, overcast, shifting). Don’t judge. Observe. With time you’ll see patterns, openings, shifts.
Exercise 4: Comfort Rituals Map
Make a map of safe anchors — a blanket, favorite song, phone a friend, walk in nature. When the overwhelm hits, refer to your map. You’ll have a toolkit.
When the Mess Becomes Overwhelming
If emotions flood you persistently — disrupt daily functioning, sleep, relationships — it may help to seek support:
- Therapy or counseling (trauma‑informed, somatic, narrative, etc.)
- Support groups (healing circles, peer groups)
- Creative therapies: art, movement, music
- Mind/body support: somatic work, breathwork, grounding practices
Asking for help isn’t weakness — it’s a courageous act of caring for your own internal landscape.
Reminders to Carry With You
- Healing doesn’t have to be pretty to be valid.
- You’re allowed to rest, regress, cry, pause — that doesn’t mean you’re failing.
- Your tears are part of the alchemy, not signs you’re lost.
- Every messy moment you survive becomes part of your strength.
- You don’t owe your healing to anyone — your story belongs to you.
Conclusion: Let the Storm Teach You
“Hot girl summer” is fun imagery, but healing lives in nights when you can’t force a smile. It lives in the pyjama crying, the whispered “I can’t do this,” the trembling breakthroughs. Unfiltered growth is messy, raw, and beautiful in its own way.
Your path is not disqualified because it isn’t glamorous. Let your tears land. Let your doubts breathe. Let your mess be part of the tapestry. Over time, your scars, your softness, your cracks will become where light gets in — and that light will be wild, real, and wholly yours.
Explore more: Vulnerability as Strength & Healing | Integrative Healing Journeys & Self‑Care