When the Soul Expands, the Subconscious Tightens
Have you ever felt joy—and flinched?
Not because anything was wrong.
But because something inside you whispered, “This can’t last.”
Or maybe you’ve found yourself—just before a major shift, a long-held desire finally within reach—feeling inexplicably anxious, numb, even sad.
This isn’t sabotage.
It’s not proof you’re broken.
It’s not your fear “winning.”
It’s simply this: When the soul expands, the subconscious tightens.
Because expansion feels like exposure.
And for those of us who were taught that love, joy, or belonging were conditional…
receiving them now, without control or performance, can feel unbearably vulnerable.
We flinch at joy because somewhere in us lives a memory—
of losing what we loved.
Of being punished for shining.
Of opening, only to be ignored.
So the subconscious does what it was designed to do:
It scans for danger
It reaches for soothing
It asks us to contract, just in case
And the deeper truth? Even joy can feel like a threat when the body only associates it with loss.
You’re not “resisting.” You’re remembering.
You’re remembering what it felt like to be wide open and unseen. To be hopeful and disappointed. To want something so badly it made you ache—and then be told you were “too much.”
But this isn’t then
And you are no longer that child, that performer, that survival strategist. You are the one who knows now:
You can feel joy and remain safe.
You can expand without disappearing.
You can soften and still be held.
A PRAYER FOR WHEN JOY FEELS UNFAMILIAR
Beloved body,
Beloved breath,
I speak now to the part of me that flinches in joy—
Not to silence her, but to hold her gently.
You kept me safe when softness felt unsafe.
You tethered me when the world felt too big.
You helped me find comfort in control.
But now… we are safe enough to open.
I bless the part of me that wants to shrink.
I hold her hand as I walk toward the light.
I let joy arrive without apology.
And I no longer confuse expansion with erasure.
Amen. And so it is.