what not to do for your metal health

Written by: Heidi Neubauer ND

I Will Never Trade My Peace for Approval… inspired by Yung Mun

A reflection on transition, vulnerability, and becoming my own safe place

Recently, I listened to a post by Yung Mun on Instagram. I love his wisdom, and this message, in particular, resonated deeply with me—especially as I navigate one of the biggest transitions of my life.

We are selling our home.
Mine for at least 18 years.
My husband’s for almost 40.

It has been the only home I have ever lived in for this length of time. What I once believed was safety, stability, and certainty is shifting beneath my feet—and with it, long-held patterns, beliefs, and wounds are rising to the surface.

These are the five truths that met me in this season.

1. I will never trade my peace for approval.

This is a hard-earned lesson—and one I am still learning.

Peace is the highest form of wealth. Coming from a traumatic childhood, my deepest desire was to belong. There were many times I traded authenticity, boundaries, and even my own truth for approval. I learned early that acceptance felt like survival.

This chapter of my life is teaching me that peace is not something to negotiate away. It is something to protect, honor, and choose—again and again.

2. I will never walk beside people who do not walk beside me.

This move has triggered me in ways I didn’t expect. The upheaval of everything I thought brought me safety and security has revealed powerful mirrors—especially in relationships.

The response, support, and assistance given (and not given) during this vulnerable time have been deeply illuminating. I’ve had to take a hard look at the energy I put into the world and, more importantly, the energy I reserve for myself.

I’m realizing something uncomfortable but true:
I am not always my own best friend.

I don’t always go the extra mile for myself, and the world is reflecting that back to me. The way people are showing up—or not—is mirroring how I treat myself in moments of need.

I often say vulnerability is a strength. If I truly believe that, then why do I resist asking for exactly what I need? Why does receiving feel unsafe?

I always thought I was open to receiving. This season is gently showing me that maybe I’m not—at least not yet. Asking for help is not easy. And when help is offered, trusting it feels even harder.

Carrying relationships that exhaust the spirit is no longer an option. My spirit feels tired. Energy must flow both ways. If you prioritize others, be sure that you are also being prioritized, and check if you are prioritizing yourself (the world may just be a mirror)

3. I will never silence my heart when it wants to be heard.

I am guilty of this—and I know I am not alone.

This transition has made it impossible to ignore my inner voice. It has invited me to listen more closely, to allow emotions to rise and move, rather than suppress or rationalize them away.

Your heart whispers before it screams. Ignoring it is how you slowly run away from yourself.

I’m learning to listen sooner.

4. I will never hold on to stories that no longer strengthen me.

“The past is a teacher, not a place to live.”

That one hit me straight in the gut.

I still find myself longing for the body I once had, criticizing the one I live in now, and pushing myself with force instead of compassion. My sacred feminine has been quietly asking for gentleness—and I haven’t always listened.

This move feels like the Universe pulling the rug out from under me, not to punish me, but to teach me how to let go. To release stories, identities, and attachments that no longer serve my growth.

What once protected me may now be limiting me.

5. I will never forget that healing is a daily practice.

Without my usual morning rituals—meditation, movement, easing into the day—I have felt untethered and misaligned. Packing boxes day after day without grounding has shown me just how essential those practices are.

They were never optional.
They were my anchors.

Those quiet moments connected me to my higher self. They clarified my intentions—not just for the day, but for the life I wish to live.

Healing doesn’t happen once. It happens daily, through small acts of devotion to ourselves.

Closing reflection

These five truths are simple, yet profound. They are guideposts for a healthy state of mind and heart.

Mental and emotional health are the foundation of all healing. Without them, true longevity and quality of life are impossible.

Life is a journey.
And this world is the school we all live in.

I am learning every day—sometimes gently, sometimes through deep discomfort—but always through growth.

If you are in transition, if your foundations are shifting, if you feel tender and unsure, know this:
You are not broken. You are being invited into deeper alignment.

And that, while uncomfortable, is a sacred thing.

---

You may also like