The Wounded Healer

Jun 7

*It takes someone special to accept the gift of trust and to return it with compassion and humanity.*

I often come across the term "wounded healer." A term used to describe someone who, uses their own personal experiences of pain, trauma and struggles to help others heal.

This concept really resonates with me for several reasons and as someone who wasn't born into privilege and has faced my own share of hardships and trauma, I deeply relate.

Many of us in the helping fields are drawn to this line of work because, in some way, we're seeking to heal ourselves or we have a personal connection to the struggles we help others navigate.

Over the past 18 years of working in various social work fields, I've learned an immense amount about myself and others through the healing journeys I've witnessed. It has been a true privilege to sit with people in their darkest moments of horror and grief, offering them a space where I can both share a part of myself and receive a part of them in return.

As Brene Brown wisely states, "To hear someone’s story is a privilege, not a right; not everyone is privy to hear your story." I couldn't agree more. It takes someone special to accept the gift of trust and to return it with compassion and humanity.

For me, it has been a profound honour to sit with others in their pain. To show up as my true self and share my own experiences in a way that fosters connection. I've had the privilege of hearing stories that are heartbreaking, and others that shine with light and wisdom. I’m not afraid to admit, I've laughed, I’ve cried and even held clients as they fell apart in front of me. It’s all part of being a wounded healer—because I, too, understand what it feels like to be shattered into a million little pieces and to thrash in the face of trauma and fear.

One question I always ask my clients is: If you had a red button that could make all your pain and hardships disappear, would you press it? The catch is that you’d lose all the beautiful things you’ve experienced in your life—the love of family, friends, children and all the moments of joy. Would you press it? More often than not, the answer is no. So, in honour of everything that truly matters to you, keep fighting. Keep moving forward.

My journey to this point has certainly not been easy, but life is not meant to be easy. Everything truly valuable comes with a cost. And despite the hurt, I’m deeply grateful for the hardships and traumas I’ve endured, as they’ve shaped me into the person I am today. If my wounds allow me to be a better friend, mother, wife, daughter, sister, and healer, then I am thankful for them.

With gratitude,

Jenny