When Your Body Pulls the Rug Out Right After You Finally Trusted It
In the Magic Spot, where Mikao Usui was said to be.
I want to be honest with you about something.
Before I left for Japan I was really proud of my body. I shared that here. I meant every word of it. It felt like real progress — and I have worked years for it.
And then I settled in and started feeling terrible.
Headaches. Heaviness. Waking up at 3am with my heart pounding. Just not well. And after how proud I had been — it was discouraging in a way that felt almost cruel. Like my body had waited for the moment I finally trusted it to pull the rug out.
I know that feeling. I know the specific cruelty of it. I try so hard. I do everything right. I have a moment of real peace with myself. And then something comes up anyway and the old story rushes back in before I've even had time to think. It makes me wanna cry... and I do.
What I noticed in myself — and what I want to name for you — is how fast the verdict arrived. Before I even had information, before I knew what was happening or why, the story was already forming. See. You can't handle things. My honest thought: "You thought you were doing well and look — your body will never heal fully."
I have spent years learning to catch that moment. The moment between what the body is doing and what I decide it means. The gap between the sensation and the story. That gap is everything — and most of us close it so fast we don't even know it's there.
And here is what I did differently this time.
I did not go to war with it.
I got quiet. I put my hand on my heart — literally, physically, in the middle of the night when I was awake and uncomfortable and scared — and I said: I am listening. Tell me what you need.
Not from a place of pretending everything was fine. Not from positive thinking or pushing through. From a place of actually wanting to know. From a place of treating my body like someone worth listening to.
My doctor found my minerals were off. A small thing — the shift from hydrogen and alkaline water at home to regular bottled water had thrown my whole system sideways. Real and fixable. Who knew? I keep learning more and more about health.
But I want to be honest: the physical fix is not what matters most to me in that moment.
What heals me time and time again is staying in the relationship with my body instead of leaving it. Even when the pain is still there, I feel safe — and when the fear is gone, my body heals faster.
Treating my body like a friend who needs a little extra support. Not a machine that was malfunctioning. Not evidence of everything I was doing wrong. Not proof that I would never fully get there. A friend. One who was trying to tell me something, not punish me.
That shift — from verdict to friendship — is the one that changes everything. Not just with the physical. With food. With how you move through your days. With the war that so many of us have been fighting with ourselves for so long we have forgotten what peace feels like.
I have watched this shift change people's lives. Not because it's a cute technique — because it's true. The body is not your enemy. It never was. It's been trying to reach you the only way it knows how.
I wrote a whole book about this. If this resonates, the BE-Friend Yourself Bundle — the book, the audio version, and a workbook — is waiting for you whenever you're ready to go deeper.
Love,
Marla
