Kindness or Willpower: What Heals Emotional Wounds?

A colourful and artistic reminder that "there is power in kindness," spreading positivity through vibrant watercolour accents.

Today I want to talk about something that’s been a longtime companion on my healing journey: the tension between willpower and kindness. When it comes to facing our emotional wounds, is it better to meet them with tough resolve, or with gentle compassion?

For most of my 25-year journey, I would’ve leaned pretty hard on willpower. I believed my problem was simple: I wasn’t trying hard enough. I wasn’t pushing myself enough to change, to grow, to heal. I imagined if I could just pick up this huge, clunky tyre of dysfunction and hurl it over the fence, I’d be free. Problem solved.

But over time, after trying and failing that strategy more times than I can count, I came to realise something: Force doesn’t heal wounds.

The Myth of Grit as a Path to Healing

We live in a culture obsessed with effort. Just push harder. Just try more. Just grit your teeth and go.

And yes, there is a time and place for determination. Sometimes, life demands resilience and discipline. But when it comes to deep emotional healing, especially the kind rooted in shame or trauma, grit can only take you so far. And when it’s fuelled by panic, anxiety, or fear of not being good enough, it’s rarely sustainable.

What I’ve come to understand, slowly and humbly, is this: Meeting my wounds with kindness has worked. Far more than willpower ever did.

Why Kindness Works

When we look at our pain with loving awareness—when we witness our wounds from a place of gentleness rather than judgement—something profound happens.

First, that very act of kindly witnessing creates a subtle but powerful separation. You’re no longer fused with the pain. You’re not consumed by it. There’s you… And then there’s your pain. And between them is a field of awareness, soft and spacious, holding it all.

Second, kindness softens the intensity. Like a parent tending a scraped knee, your caring attention takes the sting out of the hurt. Just being acknowledged—just being seen—is healing in and of itself. There’s a psychological equivalent to that childhood moment when Mum or Dad puts a band-aid on your grazed knee and suddenly, it’s not quite so bad.

Third, and maybe most importantly: real kindness isn’t passive. It’s not all bubble baths and day spas. True kindness gives rise to action.

When I treat myself with love, that love moves me to act in my best interest. To set boundaries. To nourish myself. To change habits—not because I’m panicked or ashamed, but because I care.

When I move from love, I’m tapping into a source of energy that’s endless. When I move from fear, I burn out.

A Simple Litmus Test

If you’re unsure what kindness to yourself might look like, here’s a tip: Think about how you treat a child.

I’ve raised two teenage daughters. Over the years, when they’ve come to me upset, my first instinct isn’t to bark, “Get over it! Toughen up! Quit being a baby!”

No. I listen. I hold them. I try to understand. I meet them where they’re at. Not perfectly, but with as much care as I can muster.

And yet, many of us speak to ourselves in ways we would never speak to a child or a friend. So if the idea of self-compassion feels vague or abstract to you, start there. Ask yourself: How would I speak to someone I love, who’s hurting like I am?

That’s your template.

You Don’t Need Another Drill Sergeant

The world is already loud with voices telling you to push harder, do more, toughen up. Your inner critic has probably had the megaphone for years.

What you might need right now—what so many of us need—is not more shame, not more hustle, but gentle permission.

Permission to slow down. To breathe. To meet yourself where you are.Because that’s where healing begins.And because, here’s the kicker, it actually works.

In Closing: Be Kind to Yourself

You’re doing something brave. You’re choosing to face your stuff, to feel what’s hard, to not numb out or shut down. That alone takes more courage than most people realise.

So please, be kind. To yourself. To your efforts. To the younger version of you still holding the wounds. Because kindness is not weakness, kindness is how we come home.

Thanks for reading.

If this resonated with you, I’d love it if you could subscribe or share it with someone who might need it. And, as always, you’re welcome back here anytime.

With care,

Ewan