When Your Worldview Changes

The quiet grief of losing certainty, and the unexpected compassion that can grow in its place

Over the past few years, my worldview has changed more than my career ever has.

I used to believe that being a good person meant saying yes. Being available. Working harder. Taking responsibility for other people’s distress. Sacrificing myself quietly in the background. Looking back, I don’t think I consciously chose those beliefs, they were simply the water I was swimming in. They shaped how I worked, how I loved, how I measured my worth and, perhaps most of all, how I tried to keep myself safe.

These days, I see things very differently.

I think a good person has boundaries. I think people make sense when we understand the context they’re living in. I think symptoms are often adaptations before they are disorders. I think neurodiversity has challenged many of the assumptions we’ve been taught about what it means to be “well” or “healthy”. And I think success is having enough time and energy left to enjoy your own life, not simply filling every available hour because that’s what successful people are supposed to do.

Perhaps the biggest shift of all is this: I no longer believe that bad things only happen to other people.

The past six years have taught me that life can change in an instant. Grief, illness, trauma, loss, burnout, redundancy, relationship breakdown, uncertainty... they’re part of being human, not evidence that someone has somehow failed. That’s an uncomfortable truth, because so much of our culture quietly tells us the opposite, that if we make the “right” choices, work hard enough and become good enough, we’ll somehow be spared.

Ironically, losing that certainty hasn’t made me more pessimistic.

It’s made me more compassionate.

More compassionate towards my clients, whose behaviours make so much more sense when we stop asking “What’s wrong with you?” and start asking “What happened?” or “What does your nervous system need?”

More compassionate towards other therapists, trying to care for others while often carrying far more than anyone sees.

And perhaps most importantly, more compassionate towards myself.

These days, I’m much less interested in fixing people. I’m far more interested in understanding them.

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This will be my final Substack post before I take a break for the rest of the summer.

The past couple of weeks have been more emotionally demanding than I’d anticipated. Alongside finishing work before my holiday, I’ve had both national and local news articles published about my mum’s death from mesothelioma and the circumstances surrounding both my mum’s and dad’s deaths. Sharing those stories has felt important, but it has also reminded me that some stories take energy to tell, and even more energy to carry.

So over the next few weeks, I’m going to do something I would once have found incredibly difficult. I’m going to slow down.

I’m going to rest. Read. Walk. Spend time with the people I love. Listen to podcasts without thinking about how they might become a newsletter. Notice ideas without feeling the need to immediately write them down. Give myself permission to be a person before being a therapist, writer or business owner.

One thing has become increasingly clear to me over the past few months: The Good Person Trap™ is becoming much bigger than I first imagined.

It’s no longer just an idea about therapy. It’s becoming a way of understanding why so many of us believe we have to earn our worth through being useful, selfless, endlessly capable or endlessly “good”, and what it costs us when we do.

That idea deserves more time than I can give it right now.

So this feels like the right place to pause, let it breathe, and trust that stepping away isn’t moving backwards. It’s part of the process.

When I return in September, I’ll be sharing much more about where this concept is leading me.

Until then, thank you for reading, reflecting, questioning and being part of this community. I hope your summer brings whatever you need most, whether that’s rest, adventure, healing, laughter, or simply a little more space to breathe.

See you in September.

Becky

About Becky

I’m Becky Grace Irwing, an EMDR therapist, CBT therapist, registered mental health nurse and writer. Through my clinical work and writing, I explore trauma, neurodiversity, burnout, OCD, eating disorders and the stories we tell ourselves about what it means to be “good”. I’m also the creator of The Good Person Trap™, an evolving body of work exploring why so many of us tie our worth to being useful, capable and endlessly selfless.

Stay Connected

If this resonated with you, I’d love for you to subscribe and join me when I return in September. I’ll be sharing more reflections on The Good Person Trap™, alongside psychology, therapy, and the beautifully messy reality of being human.

You can also connect with me on LinkedIn, or learn more about my clinical work at Becky Grace Therapy.

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A note on AI

I use AI as a thinking partner to help me explore ideas, challenge my assumptions and refine my writing. Every article reflects my own lived experience, clinical perspective and final editorial decisions. AI helps me think more clearly (including creating me an image for my articles!) it doesn’t replace my voice.

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