You set the goal to meditate daily.
You commit to eating nourishing foods.
You plan your days carefully, determined to move your body, to honor your health, to show up fully for your life.
And on the days when everything flows, you feel energized, hopeful, proud.
But when the inevitable disruptions of life happen—when you miss a walk, or grab something easy instead of healthy, or simply lose the thread for a day—you can find yourself tangled in a different kind of loop.
A quiet, sharp voice emerges.
You didn’t just miss a habit.
You failed.
You’re slipping.
Maybe you’re not cut out for this after all.
It is the hidden dilemma of the Habit Healer:
When good habits, the ones built with such care, begin to feel like a new way to measure your worth.
And instead of healing you, they quietly start to hurt you.
When Good Habits Become a New Measuring Stick
Habits, at their best, are meant to liberate us.
They carry our intentions forward automatically, freeing our minds, strengthening our bodies, nurturing our spirits.
But for many of us—especially those who genuinely care about healing, growth, and service—good habits can become something else.
They become the new test we must pass to prove we are okay.
If I move my body every day, I am disciplined.
If I eat perfectly, I am in control.
If I meditate each morning, I am worthy.
And when we fall short—as every human inevitably does—something deeper than disappointment can set in.
A subtle shame.
An erosion of self-trust.
A belief that perhaps the failure wasn’t in the behavior, but in the person.
My Own Season of Stuckness
Not long ago, I experienced this from the inside out.
I broke my ankle.
At the time, I was in a rhythm of life that felt deeply aligned.
I was walking four to five miles a day.
I was checking off my lists, moving through my work, maintaining the habits that made me feel vibrant and steady.
Movement wasn’t just exercise—it was how I reset, how I energized myself, how I anchored my days.
And then, in a single unexpected moment, it was gone.
Suddenly, I couldn't walk without pain.
The simplest routines became obstacles.
The energy I usually generated through movement and momentum slipped away.
I wasn’t depressed. But I was stuck.
I lost a thread of myself.
Not forever—but for long enough to notice how fragile that sense of self could be when it was tied too tightly to external patterns.
It wasn’t just the broken ankle that hurt.
It was the way my old perfectionist wiring rushed back to fill the void.
If I can’t do my walks...
If I can’t stay on top of everything...
If I can’t perform at my usual pace...
What does that mean about me?
It was a "broken ankle moment"—not just physically, but psychologically.
And it forced me to ask a harder question:
Had I really built habits that healed me?
Or had I built habits that I quietly depended on to feel worthy?
The Real Work: Healing the Relationship First
Healing, I discovered, didn’t begin when my bone started to knit back together.
It began when I redefined my relationship with myself.
When I remembered that my worth wasn't hanging by the thread of my habits.
When I understood that I could still be whole, even when my habits were temporarily fractured.
The real work of habit healing isn't just installing better behaviors.
It’s dismantling the old contract that says, "If I do everything right, then I am enough."
It’s learning to say, "I am already enough, even when life disrupts my best intentions."
Without this shift, good habits can quietly replicate the same perfectionism we are trying to heal from—just in prettier, more socially acceptable packaging.
How Self-Criticism Hijacks Habit Loops
When a good habit slips and we immediately attack ourselves, the habit loop changes.
Instead of
cue → behavior → reward,
it becomes
cue → behavior → self-judgment → emotional pain.
And our brain, wired for survival, begins to associate the habit itself with threat and failure.
The very habits we hope will heal us start to carry a hidden cost.
Every missed meditation feels heavier.
Every skipped workout feels like evidence.
Every imperfect choice erodes the fragile ground of self-trust.
Over time, this can trigger a quiet rebellion.
We stop even trying—not because we don't care, but because trying feels too dangerous.
Because failure feels too painful.
This is the hidden collapse many people face in their "broken ankle moments"—whether literal, emotional, or circumstantial.
Redefining What Success Looks Like
If you want to heal your habits, you must first heal the ground they are built upon.
That means redefining success.
Success is not:
"I never missed a day."
"I always got it right."
Success is:
"I kept showing up, even imperfectly."
"I practiced flexibility, not just discipline."
"I repaired gently after disruptions, instead of punishing myself."
In other words, success is not in flawless execution.
Success is in resilient return.
In honoring the human reality of curveballs, injuries, illnesses, messy schedules, tired days, and unexpected setbacks—and choosing to stay connected to yourself anyway.
Practical Ways to Heal Your Habit Relationship
Here is how you begin:
1. Expect Imperfection.
Assume life will disrupt your habits sometimes.
Not because you are weak, but because you are human.
Design your systems with margin for real life.
2. Notice the Inner Critic Early.
The first missed habit is not the problem.
The first critical story about what the miss means—that is the real danger.
Catch it. Name it. Decline its invitation.
3. Practice Micro-Repairs.
Missed a workout? Stretch for two minutes.
Ate off-plan? Drink a glass of water and move on.
Missed a meditation? Take five slow breaths.
Small acts of repair rebuild momentum faster than harsh self-recrimination ever could.
4. Celebrate Flexible Consistency.
Flexibility is not weakness.
It is wisdom.
Flexible consistency—the ability to adapt without abandoning your path—is one of the strongest predictors of long-term transformation.
When Healing Habits Hurt, Return to Healing Yourself
It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that if we can just get all our habits right, we will finally be right.
That if we can walk enough, work enough, do enough, heal enough, we will finally be enough.
But the Habit Healer’s path is different.
It is quieter.
It is slower.
It is kinder.
It understands that healing is not a race.
That you do not have to do everything right to be worthy of belonging—to yourself, to your dreams, to your future.
It understands that real success is not in how perfectly you move forward, but in how gently you return after you fall.
And if you are in your own broken ankle season—whatever that looks like—remember this:
You are not lost.
You are not broken.
You are becoming.
One healing habit.
One act of self-compassion.
One resilient step at a time.
You are one healing habit away.
Always.
Ready to go deeper?
If you want to build habits that truly heal—habits rooted in resilience, compassion, and quiet strength—join me inside The Habit Healers Mindset’s Inner Circle.
Every week, you’ll receive a new guide to help you shift your habits, your mindset, and your life from the inside out.
Because real healing doesn’t come from doing everything right.
It comes from learning how to return to yourself, again and again.
You are one healing habit away.
Join the Inner Circle here.
I remember being so surprised weeks after major surgery that I was so tired and sleeping so much. My then-therapist told me that while you are sleeping the body is healing itself. It needs energy to heal. You can't return to an energetic life and heal at the same time. Once I realised the tiredness and rest were part of the healing process I was able to be much more patient with myself. I have recovered well now from several joint replacement surgeries and each time I slept a lot during recovery. I also discovered that true, deep and lasting healing continues for not only months but even years after the surgery. That was quite a surprise as everyone wants to tell you how quickly it happens! Thank you for these reminders of how important it is to be patient with yourself when things are not going well in full swing!
Hello Dr MARBAS. Today’s message was an extremely difficult one. Three years ago I had problems with my one toe. Went to the doctor over and over. I sat in the ER weekend after weekend eight hours at a time to try and get help to for the problem that was now my whole foot. Five months of this later I was able to see a surgeon as the problem had escalated. My leg was amputated in such a way that I could have a prosthetic. I remained positive and healed very well. My follow up appointment I was told that I could not have a prosthetic because I was old and not steady enough on my other leg. It was not safe for me to walk again. I am really stuck now, in all kinds of ways. This is why this article you wrote was so difficult for me. I remain positive every day. I eat a whole food plant based diet. I try to move a bit. What I think I’m getting at is there are different ways and degrees of being stuck. Physical. Emotional. Mental. Could you address these please. I have not told my story anywhere before so I apologize for the long comment.