I give people the answers. And then they blame me when they don’t get better.

I don’t understand it. I’ve never understood it.

People come to me asking for help. They want solutions. They want me to problem-solve, connect the dots, give them the answers. And I do. I give them everything — clearly, kindly, step by step. I hand them the map, the tools, the entire path laid out in front of them.

And then they don’t do it.

Or they say they did — but they were just ticking a box, going through the motions, not actually integrating anything.

Or I give them the solution and I hear: “well, I can’t afford that.”

So I ask the question I keep having to ask: do you actually want to change? Because all I’m hearing is excuses.

And then — this is the part that gets me — they come back later and say “I didn’t get better.”

Of course you didn’t. I gave you the answers. You chose not to take them.

Here’s the hard truth I have to speak:

I can hand you the test answers. I cannot take the test for you.

I can show you the door. I cannot walk you through it.

I can lay out the whole path in front of you. But if you won’t take the first step — or you walk it halfway and stop, or you tell yourself it’s too expensive when what you really mean is it’s too hard — then no amount of answers from me will change a thing.

Healing is not something I can do to you. It is something you have to do — with my help, but not through my effort.

And I’ve learned something about that phrase, “I can’t afford it.” After years of scanning bodies and doing this work, I’ve come to see that it is rarely about the money.

It’s about readiness.

When a person has been sick for years — with Lyme, with pain, with the fog and the exhaustion — “sick” becomes who they are. It becomes their story, their excuse, their way of being held and cared for. To get well means giving that up. And that is terrifying, even when the sickness is miserable.

So the real cost isn’t financial. It’s the cost of changing.

Healing requires dismantling an identity. It asks you to stop being the person who is sick and start being the person who is whole. And for many, that price feels higher than any dollar amount — because it means letting go of the story they’ve been telling themselves, and the way the world has treated them, for years.

I have watched people transform their entire lives when they finally decided their healing was worth the price — not just the money, but the work. The uncomfortable integration. The letting go of the identity built around being sick. The showing up, day after day, even when it was hard.

And I have watched people stay stuck for years, asking for help and then refusing to take it — because staying sick was easier than the cost of changing.

So here is my honest question to you:

Do you want to change? Or do you want to stay exactly where you are and have someone else be responsible for it?

I can give you the answers. I will always give you the answers. But I cannot want your healing more than you want it.

The door is open. It has always been open.

The only question is whether you’re ready to walk through — or whether “I can’t afford it” is just the story you’re telling yourself to stay safe in the cage you’ve outgrown.