Receiving isn't Rest. It's a Reckoning.
- thegirlymum
- Jun 17
- 4 min read

The Truth about Receiving
We think receiving should feel easy.
But for most of us—it doesn’t.
Because we weren’t trained to receive.
We were trained to earn.
So when something beautiful does arrive—
we don’t rest in it.
We brace.
We wonder what it’ll cost.
Receiving doesn’t feel like exhale.
It feels like exposure.
Like debt.
Even the people who “have it all” often can’t hold it.
And the ones who give the most?
They’re often giving from spiritual overdraft.
The truth: No one you give to can pay you back in full.
Not your kids.
Not your clients.
Not your partner.
If your giving is a cry to be seen—
you’ll keep feeling unseen.
The only way out of this cycle is learning to receive.
To stop hustling for what’s already here.
And yes—it might feel like torture.
What we think we want isn't what we get
We think we want ease.
Fun. Overflow. Support.
Love that pours in without demand.
But most people’s nervous systems have no idea what to do with those things.
Receiving isn’t soft.
It isn’t passive.
It isn’t a reward you earn when you’ve finally given enough.
It's a bitch.
It asks you to sit in sensation.
To tolerate having.
To notice what you already hold.
To expand your capacity instead of proving it.
And for most people—this feels excruciating.
Why Receiving Feels Unsafe
For many of us, receiving got wired to danger.
Love came with strings.
Attention came with a price.
Praise made you a target.
Rest meant you were lazy.
So your system adapted:
it braced,
deflected,
anticipated.
It became safer to give.
To prove. To try.
Because having—without doing—felt like a setup.
Receiving breaks the contract you made with control.
It leaves you exposed.
And it shows you every place in your body, your relationships,
and your identity that isn’t quite sure it’s allowed to exist just as it is.

When We Think Fun = Easy
We love to say we want more play.
More joy.
More pleasure.
But fun isn’t easy if your system never learned it was safe.
Fun can dysregulate you.
Fun can stimulate feelings of chaos
if you grew up where joy was constantly interrupted—
or punished.
Fun can feel shameful
if the people around you were struggling and you learned to tone yourself down.
Fun can take you back to a time when fun got you in trouble,
when fun wasn’t allowed, or when all you should have been doing was having fun—
but couldn’t.
It can stimulate childhood wounding to resurface.
Fun can feel overwhelming if it was associated with unpredictability.
Fun can feel unreachable if you’ve spent your life earning rest, not embodying it.
The body doesn’t lie. It will brace, flinch, numb, or collapse - because fun isn’t neutral.
The Many Faces of Receiving
Receiving isn’t just about accepting a gift.
It’s letting joy enter.
Letting rest settle.
Letting someone see you.
Here are just a few ways we struggle to receive:
A compliment (and believing it)
A partner’s care (without reciprocating)
A check in the mail (without guilt)
An open day (without filling it)
A new identity (without sabotage)
If you’ve spent your life giving,
you might notice that receiving actually stings.
Or that it slides off you.
Or that you keep giving it away.
When you can’t hold what’s yours, you’ll keep leaking your power—and calling it generosity.
Why It Comes Back to Worth
Why do we struggle with receiving so deeply?
Because most people have a genuine disconnect from their own worth.
Even those who identify as worthy often show—
through their ability to receive—
that they can’t fully hold what comes in—
at least not for long, without needing to redispurse the incoming.
You can believe you're valuable in theory.
But if your body resists the softness, the ease, the pleasure?
It means there’s still a part of you that doesn’t feel safe being full.
Receiving is the mirror.
It reveals the gap between what you say you believe—
and what your nervous system actually trusts.
Your Miasm Is Showing
In homeopathy, we often refer to "miasms"—
deep, inherited energetic patterns, like genes, that shape how we respond to life.
They're not diagnoses. They're tendencies. Filters.
Invisible scripts we run until something interrupts the pattern.
And yes—your miasm shows up in how you receive.
Psoric: feels they must earn every ounce of goodness. Receiving triggers guilt. They ask: “Have I done enough?”
Sycotic: struggles to receive because it requires being seen. They hide their desires and feel unworthy beneath the surface.
Syphilitic: believes good things can’t last. Receiving feels dangerous. Destruction follows closeness. “If I get it, I’ll ruin it.”
Tubercular: longs for more but can’t stay still long enough to receive. Restlessness interrupts every blessing.
Cancer: feels they must be perfect first. Receiving means being exposed as not enough. They’d rather give until depletion.
AIDS (syco-syphilitic): wants to believe in receiving but deeply mistrusts the source. They expect betrayal. Even grace feels suspicious.
How Homeopathy Helps
Homeopathy doesn’t just treat symptoms.
It helps the body remember who it was before it shut down, caved in, or became addicted to productivity.
Every remedy works with the subtle body.
The blueprint beneath your behaviors.
The energetic scaffolding that holds your nervous system together—or doesn’t.
When you have a remedy that matches, your system gets a new option.
You may find yourself saying no without panic.
You may let your shoulders drop and realize nothing bad happened.
You may not explain yourself for the first time in years.
You may feel a flash of joy—and stay with it.
Receiving gets easier when your system no longer interprets it as threat.
Homeopathy clears the imprint of danger.
It frees you to live from your actual instincts, not your old protection plan.
Practicing the Art of Receiving
You don’t have to do it perfectly.
But if you want to expand your capacity, try one of these practices this week:

You don’t have to earn having.
You do have to let it register.
Receiving isn’t indulgence.
It’s integration.
It’s what allows you to stay here.
To be with what is.
To circulate what’s yours.
And yes—it might feel like a reckoning.
But that doesn’t mean you’re not ready.
It means you’re right on time.
In service to the highest good,
Lindsay
👉 Missed the first part? Go read When Giving Becomes Depletion — the moment the warning bell rang before the reckoning began.
Tubercular and AIDS... Trust doesn't come easy with my history but I work on just being quiet and letting it happen instead of avoiding or joking things off to keep the seriousness away.