Hope can be a scary thing, but it doesn’t have to be
I have a confession to make. I am obsessed with the Off Campus TV show. It's filmed at UBC, my alma mater, the casting is impeccable, and it’s written & directed by women for women. Anyway, what does this have to do with healing? I mean, many things, because as women reclaim their sacred space in the cultural consciousness, we all heal, but that’s for another blog post :)
2026 has been a huge year for me, and I can feel it in my bones — it's not done with me yet. From what I’m witnessing around me, this seems to be a universal experience. 2026 is intense, right? It’s as if Mother Earth is initiating all of us into deeper healing as more and more of us wake up to ourselves.
Personally, 2026 is extra special, because I began my healing journey at the very end of 2018 when I found out I was suspected of MS. The 7-year cycle of that journey truly feels like it's come to an end, and I've stepped into a new cycle this year. And it hasn't disappointed.
My lifelong dream, since I was a little girl, has been to write stories. I never prioritized it, though. Although stories always visit me (usually in my dreams!), I never committed to writing. It took many years of healing to finally give myself permission to write, and MS was an initiating teacher for sure (not one I would recommend, but I’m stubborn).
In January, I started writing, and didn't stop until I had a manuscript! All 400+ pages of a feminist dystopian romance. It's sitting in second draft purgatory now, but it feels surreal whenever I think of having accomplished something I once only dared dream about. Another contemporary romance novel is sitting in my drafts, begging for my attention, but I've taken a break from writing to finish up some of my Family Constellations training.
Which brings me back to healing, and back to Off Campus. One of the many things I've loved about this show is the music. One of the songs that’s been playing rent free in my head is “Hope Is a Scary Thing” by Carol Ades.
And aside from the fact that that scene is incredibly cute and a masterclass on consent, I’ve been wondering why the lyrics have lodged themselves in my head and heart.
Why is hope a scary thing? And why do these lyrics keep popping in my head whenever good things happen in my life?
At the risk of oversimplifying it, I can sum it up with one word: trauma.
When you've been living in survival mode for long enough, joy, good feelings, along with the hope that these positive moments will last, can be pretty scary!
Maybe you're on the healing path and you're making progress. Perhaps you feel physically better, you have more mental clarity, you're maybe even feeling a little invincible. Like, hey, I got this thing down pat. And then bam! A trigger comes out of left field and not only does it feel like you've ruined all your hard-won peace, now you feel worse than when you started this whole healing journey. I speak from personal experience. I wonder if you can relate?
I've been there more times than I can count in these 7 years. It's only now, in my 8th year, that I have the core stability to recognize that I'm not going back, and in fact, even if sometimes it feels as if I've regressed to square one, it's only because I’m going deeper than ever before.
As you heal, your capacity to visit deeper layers of shadow increases, and sometimes the lows can actually feel lower. It doesn't sound great, but something else also happens. I've noticed that if I manage to get my head out of the sand long enough (aka, regulate my system enough to feel my feelings and then create some space to contemplate what this trigger/situation/mood is bringing about), then I get to the other side much faster. And the more times I do it, the more hope grows that I can get through anything.
Some days, I have to keep telling myself that I've put in years of solid work and every trigger is an opportunity to deepen this work.
And when that fails, I remind myself that I've survived every single day of my life up until now. That's no small thing.
So, yup… Hope can feel scary sometimes, because we’re used to survival, we’re used to the pain and suffering, we’re used to things being hard. But Joy? Pleasure? Satisfaction? Especially as women, we’re acculturated to feel shame and guilt surrounding these good feelings. We’re taught that we have to earn them.
That’s why part of the healing process has to be about making space for the good. As much as it’s important to feel your feelings and root around in the cellar of your subconscious to excavate the pain, we have to spend an equal amount of time (if not more) looking toward the light. When we do that, everything becomes easier, because we are making space for grace to enter – ultimately helping our process on the way up.
These days, I don’t think that it’s idealistic to believe in grace and the power of miracles.
I believe that hope is an imperative act of resistance to the collective pain we face–and sometimes, hope is just about the only thing we can do when the world seems to be crumbling around us.
That’s why I’m committed to spreading hope and sprinkling some light hearted joy (and hockey romance vibes) whenever I get the chance.
Love ya’
—Alecs
