Living Through a Flare
Choosing Compassion Over Criticism
I usually know when the pain is already high the moment I awaken. The familiar signs tell me it’s more than just a tougher day. It heralds the onset of another stubborn and persistent pain flare, something many of us living with chronic pain can relate to.
Here’s a central truth we often learn early on in this journey:
Flares happen.
And when they do, it’s so easy to fall prey to natural emotional responses—discouragement, frustration, the sense that we’ve “done something wrong,” or fear that we’re sliding backward in our progress.
Let’s be clear:
Having those thoughts arise doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with us.
And no, we’re not complaining or whining. We don’t need to add unnecessary self-berating or self-doubt into the mix.
When Doubt and Frustration Arise
Our frustration is valid. We do the right things—self-care, pacing, tuning in to our bodies. We put effort into managing our days and interpreting our body’s signals, and still, the pain spikes. When a flare occurs, it can feel like all our work has been in vain. We might even feel powerless, hopeless, and reluctant to keep trying. Of course, our rational minds know better, but feelings don’t always respond to logic.
The good news: There’s a pivotal moment when we catch ourselves starting to go down that path. In that moment, we can choose what happens next.
And having a choice? That’s incredibly empowering.
What I Used to Believe—and What I Know Now
I used to get so discouraged, even tearful, when a flare arose. I’d start fearing movement, convinced I’d done something to cause it. Over time, I learned that flares are a common part of chronic pain, and they often arise for no apparent reason.
Now, when they come, I remind myself of the inner work I’ve done to prepare for moments like this. I recall what I’ve practiced on the “usual” days, all I’ve been learning—and now, what I’m teaching others.
My old internal dialogue during a flare sounded like this:
What did I do? I’ve been so careful!
I have a million things I want to get done today!
Oh great, here we go again… how long will it go on this time?
I’ll never escape this.
I guess I won’t try doing “X” again.
Sound familiar?
Now, I engage in a different kind of internal conversation. I remind myself:
Flares can happen on their own, and they don’t mean I’ve caused it.
It’s okay to feel frustrated or disappointed.
I can ask why I tend to blame myself for things beyond my control.
I can revisit my definition of productivity and ease up on my expectations.
There’s no point in predicting how long it will last. It’ll pass when it passes.
I can reassess each day, gently and without judgment.
It’s not about escaping it. It’s about negotiating, reframing, and adapting with love and compassion.
Compassion Takes Practice
I’ll be honest—I still have days when I repeat these truths to myself over and over. This is ongoing work, and some days are harder than others. But that’s true for many things in life.
By tuning into our bodies and our needs with greater compassion, we build a more resilient foundation. One that holds us steady in the challenging moments. We strengthen our emotional core, day by day.
When pain spikes and we know it’s more than just a “hard day,” that’s our cue to take inventory. What strategies have we been building? Can we return to mindfulness, to presence, to gentleness?
Try saying:
"Okay, I’m in a flare… and I’m feeling discouraged and agitated about that."
Notice it. Name it. No judgment. Just presence.
We can learn to sit gently with what is—and offer ourselves a warm, human embrace in the process. Acceptance doesn’t mean giving up; it means honoring this moment for what it is, with grace.
Gentle Questions for Flare Days
Here are some questions we might ask ourselves when a flare sets in:
How can we meet this with more compassion rather than self-criticism?
How can we soften to this experience, rather than resist it?
How can we redesign our day to allow for rest?
What truly needs our attention today—and what can wait? If the answer is “nothing,” can we accept that?
How can we protect our peace and our sleep right now?
How can we lovingly double down on daily self-care and comfort? (Soft clothes, soothing music, warm drinks, cozy blankets?)
What’s possible today?
Here’s wishing you gentleness, calmness, and compassion on the harder days—especially during flares.
Remember, it will get better.
We can do this, together.
With you on the journey,
Julie 🤍
*chronic pain pain flare self-compassion self-care self-awareness healing journey