YogiWrites

The Slap I Didn’t See Coming

It wasn’t a fight. It wasn’t a breakdown. It was something more irritating—a soft, silent burnout that wore cologne and smiled politely.

I was sipping ginger tea at a café in Kothrud, Pune—pretending to read a self-help book, when it hit me. Not the realisation. The migraine. A slow pulsing reminder that I was “functioning” through life with the emotional range of a broken refrigerator light.

I had my morning routine, gratitude journal, gym schedule, breathing rituals, and my Spotify playlist full of lo-fi healing mantras.

And still… I felt like a soggy biscuit pretending to be a samosa.

The Day I Realised I Was Just Coping Like a Pro

A friend once told me, “Bro, you’re the most sorted messed-up person I know.”
I laughed. Not because it was funny—but because it was terrifyingly accurate.

For years, I thought I was healing. But I was really just coping—beautifully, spiritually, Instagrammably.

Here’s how it looked:

• Healing: “I’m working through my abandonment issues.”
• Reality: “I changed the wallpaper on my phone to Hanuman ji and started a 40-day challenge.”
• Healing: “I’ve forgiven them.”
• Reality: “I just blocked them and rebranded it as ‘energetic boundaries’.”
• Healing: “I feel more aligned these days.”
• Reality: “I cry in the bathroom quietly and eat dark chocolate like it’s a spiritual supplement.”

Let’s be honest—coping is necessary. It keeps the engine running. But healing… healing asks you to rebuild the engine.

So, What Is the Difference Between Healing and Coping?

Coping Is the Life Jacket

It’s your Netflix binges, your overeating, your sarcastic humour, your endless distractions. It’s your calendar packed to the brim so you never have to sit in silence with your own story.

Coping is survival mode. It whispers, “Just get through today.”
And hey, that’s not a crime. Sometimes, surviving is the most spiritual act.

Healing Is Learning How to Swim Again

Healing is quiet. Messy. Sometimes poetic. Often boring.
It’s the inner work you don’t get applause for.
It’s journaling about your triggers instead of texting your ex.

Healing means sitting with the discomfort long enough to understand its language.
It doesn’t always look strong. It doesn’t always feel enlightened.

But it’s honest.
And honesty, my friend, is holy.

Why Both Matter (And Why Instagram Won’t Tell You This)

Let’s not villainise coping. Without it, many of us wouldn’t have made it past Round 1 of life’s emotional UFC cage match. Coping lets you function. Healing lets you transform.

The problem starts when we decorate our coping mechanisms and hang fairy lights around them.

Coping says, “This is fine.”
Healing asks, “But is this true?”

And most people are so good at coping, they never realise they haven’t actually started healing.

What Healing Actually Looks Like (Spoiler: Not Very Sexy)

• Saying “I’m not okay” without wrapping it in a joke
• Letting the tears flow without grabbing your phone
• Saying “no” to people who are used to your “yes”
• Reparenting your inner child instead of gaslighting it
• Realising that the mountain wasn’t outside—it was within

And here’s the kicker: healing can feel worse before it gets better.
Because suddenly, your old patterns don’t feel comfortable anymore. But the new ones haven’t kicked in either. That’s called the “void.” And yes, it sucks.

But that void is where your next self is incubating.

The Real-Life Application (Because Wisdom Without Practice is Just Decoration)

You had a breakup?

• Coping: Download Tinder, get a haircut, binge on Reels.
• Healing: Write a letter you don’t send, learn where you self-abandoned.

You lost a job?

• Coping: Hustle harder, start five new side gigs.
• Healing: Sit with the grief of feeling “not enough.”

You feel empty?

• Coping: Eat, scroll, shop.
• Healing: Ask yourself what part of you went unheard all these years.

Coping Keeps You Alive. Healing Brings You Back to Life.

If you’re coping right now—good. I’m glad you found something that helps.
But don’t stop there.

Start writing letters to your younger self.
Cry without fixing it.
Walk barefoot.
Tell someone the truth—especially yourself.

Because healing doesn’t need a ceremony.
Just your honesty.
And maybe… a second cup of chai.

And if this stirred something in you, wait till you read the next one: “How I Unfollowed My Inner Critic (Without Needing Therapy or Thailand)” – coming next Sunday.

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