The Weight We Carry: When Pain Becomes Identity
- Dr. Don Schweitzer, PhD, LMSW
- Oct 27
- 7 min read
Updated: 1 day ago
Many people reach a certain point in their growth and then stop. They don’t mean to. They still may read books, listen to podcasts, and attend classes. They can talk about healing, forgiveness, and self-awareness. "Mindfulness" is a buzzword they're fluent with. And, yet, something holds them in place.
It’s not because they don’t want to change. It’s because, somewhere along the way, they’ve come to believe their pain is what makes them special.
That belief may not sound logical, but it feels true. It's also common enough that we both know people who struggle with it. We can all struggle with it: pain becomes the lens through which we interpret everything. We protect it. We justify it. We even build our identity around it, unconsciously shaping our choices, relationships, and worldview to preserve it.
Here’s the paradox: the very thing we think defines us often ends up confining us.
The Subtle Seduction of Suffering
Pain demands attention. That's what it is there for, but pain is a symptom and not the problem. When we’re hurt, everything can narrow down to survival: "How do I stop this?" "Who’s at fault?" "How do I make sure this never happens again?"
Those are natural, protective responses. But over time, unresolved pain can start to whisper a more seductive message: "This is who you are now."
You’re the one who was betrayed. The one who was abandoned. The one who never felt seen. The one who always had to fight. The one who no one can understand.
Those stories start as survival tools, but they can harden into identity. And once identity gets involved, letting go of pain feels like letting go of ourselves. This is one reason we can struggle to ask for help.
Professionally, I’ve seen this countless times in sessions. People say they want peace, yet they’re terrified of what peace might mean. The pain justifies something else and allows them to keep ignoring what is actually causing it. Sometimes, they think it means changing who they are, as if we are not constantly changing.
"Who am I if I’m not the one who struggles? Who am I if I’m no longer angry? Who am I if I stop being the victim?"
It’s uncomfortable to admit, but many of us have built entire lives around answering those questions in ways that keep us small.
Honoring Without Idolizing
Let me be clear: your pain is real, and the reasons for it. Mental health and relational growth are not an overnight or formulaic thing.
The heartbreak, the trauma, the disappointments, the quiet hurts that shaped you, they matter. They deserve acknowledgment and acceptance. They’re part of your story, and honoring them is an essential part of healing.
But honoring pain and idolizing pain are two different things.
Honoring says, “This hurt me, and I want to understand how it shaped me.”Idolizing says, “This hurt me, and I will never be anything else.”
One invites growth. The other enshrines suffering as a permanent identity.
I often tell counseling clients, "You can respect your past without living in it. You can validate your feelings without centering your life around them." Healing is not about pretending the pain didn’t happen; it’s about no longer needing it to define who you are.
Pain Is Not Proof
We all know someone who carries their suffering like a badge of authenticity. They say things like, “You just don’t understand what it’s like for me,” or “It’s easy for you, you haven’t been through what I’ve been through.”
Sometimes, those statements are true. Life is not fair. Some people face unimaginable hardship. Often, these statements are about keeping a safe distance, rather than an inviting understanding.
But pain is not proof that the world is uniquely cruel to you. Pain is proof that you’re human.
When we believe our pain is special, we isolate ourselves. We start to see a connection as impossible because “no one else could understand.” Yet, the opposite is true: the shared experience of pain is what connects us deeply.
The details of our stories differ, but the emotions - loss, shame, fear, loneliness, grief - are universal.
The truth is, everyone you meet is carrying something heavy. And when you realize that, your pain becomes less of a dividing line and more of a bridge.
What Growth Actually Requires
Real growth begins when we stop trying to protect our pain and start trying to understand it. That shift sounds subtle, but it changes everything.
Protecting pain means building walls. It means avoiding situations, conversations, or people that challenge our narrative. It means surrounding ourselves with those who confirm that yes, we’ve been wronged, and no, it’s not our responsibility to change.
Understanding pain means curiosity. It means asking, “What might this pain be trying to teach me?” or “How has this shaped the way I see myself and others?”
One closes the door on growth. The other opens it. Growth requires us to stop using our story as justification for staying stuck.
It’s okay to say, “This happened to me.”It’s not okay to say, “Because this happened to me, I can’t change.”
Your pain can explain your patterns, but it cannot excuse them.
That distinction is where healing begins.
The Work of Integration
Healing isn’t about erasing the story, it’s about integrating it.
Integration means taking the lessons without reliving the suffering. It’s the difference between saying, “This broke me,” and saying, “This shaped me.”
In therapy, I often see people who want to “move on” but haven’t yet made meaning of their experiences. They want the pain to go away, but they also haven’t extracted its wisdom.
Pain without meaning becomes bitterness. Pain understood becomes wisdom. And wisdom, unlike pain, is something you can share without bleeding.
When you integrate your story, it stops being a wound and becomes a scar, a visible reminder of healing, not hurt.
The Mindful Way Through
Mindfulness teaches us to witness our experiences without judgment, to see thoughts, emotions, and sensations as passing phenomena, not permanent truths.
When you apply mindfulness to pain, something profound happens: you start to see that pain is an experience, not an identity.
You begin to notice how your mind clings to old stories:
“I always get hurt.”
“No one ever listens.”
“I’ll never be enough.”
Each time those thoughts arise, mindfulness gives you space to breathe between the story and your sense of self. You learn to say, “This is a thought. This is a feeling. It’s not me.”
Over time, that awareness loosens pain’s grip. You stop feeding the narrative that you are your suffering. And in that space, something beautiful emerges: freedom.
Your Story Is Yours, But Pain Is Universal
One of the most powerful moments in therapy is when a client realizes they’re not alone.
When they see that others have felt the same fear, shame, or grief, and that those emotions didn’t destroy them, it’s as if a door opens.
That realization doesn’t diminish the uniqueness of their story. It deepens it.
Because our individuality doesn’t come from the pain we carry, it comes from how we respond to it.
Pain is universal. Resilience is personal.
What makes you special isn’t the wound. It’s the way you choose to heal it.
Moving Beyond the Story
If you’ve built part of your identity around pain, moving past it can feel like betrayal. You might worry that if you stop talking about it, it will mean it didn’t matter. Or that if you stop feeling it, it will mean you’ve let others “off the hook.”
But that’s the illusion pain creates: that holding onto it honors it.
In truth, what honors your pain most is transforming it.
You can acknowledge what happened and still choose joy. You can remember what was lost and still open yourself to love. You can respect the person who suffered without remaining with them.
You don’t have to erase your story to evolve beyond it.
A Practice to Begin
If this idea resonates with you, try this reflection practice:
Identify: Write down one story of pain you find yourself repeating, something you say to yourself or others often. (“I was betrayed.” “My parents didn’t care.” “I never get chosen.”)
Observe: Notice what emotions or sensations come up when you revisit this story. Where do you feel them in your body?
Reflect: Ask yourself:
How has this story shaped who I think I am?
What would it mean to see myself without this story?
What has this pain taught me about what I value or what I need to heal?
Plan: Choose one small action that represents growth beyond the story, something that reinforces who you’re becoming, not who you were.
This is not a one-time exercise. It’s a lifelong practice of remembering that you are more than what hurt you.
The Freedom Beyond Special Pain
We live in a culture that romanticizes suffering. We admire those who’ve “overcome” hardship, but we often forget that the overcoming, not the hardship, is what makes their story powerful.
Your pain may have shaped you, but it does not define you. It can deepen your compassion, clarify your values, and strengthen your spirit—but only if you stop worshipping it.
There’s a quiet strength in people who’ve faced darkness and chosen not to build their home there.
So yes, your pain is real. But it’s not unique. And it’s not proof that the world is harder just for you.
What makes you extraordinary isn’t your suffering, it’s your willingness to heal.
A Call for Reflection: Take a few moments today to ask yourself: Have I mistaken my pain for my identity?
If the answer is yes, that’s not a failure, it’s an invitation.
Because the moment you see the difference between who you are and what happened to you, you begin to grow again.
If you found this post meaningful, you might enjoy two of my books:
📘 Embracing Authentically: Intentionally Living with Purpose and Integrity – This book begins with an activity to help you identify your core values, then guides you through practical reflections on how to live those values each day.
🧘♂️ Mindfulness for Beginners – A simple, accessible introduction to mindfulness that helps you understand what it is and how to start using it to quiet the mind and live with more ease.
You can also sign up for Don’s free weekly newsletter, Mindful Living, which offers reflections, resources, and practical ways to bring mindfulness into your week.
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