The Berlin Paradox: When Healing Becomes Another Thing to Escape With

Dear reader,

A few days ago, I was scrolling the internet (as one inevitably does after a digital detox) when I stumbled upon one of the most fascinating psychological quirks I’ve come across: the Berlin Paradox, a mind-bending contradiction in the world of self-improvement.

We all know people can be addicted to just about anything. Sugar. Work. Chaos. Apparently, you can also become addicted to healing itself. Sounds ironic? That’s because it is.

The Berlin Paradox refers to a pattern observed in people who become so enamoured with the process of self-improvement, daily journalling, ice baths, meditation marathons, that they never actually arrive at being “healed.”

It’s like sprinting on a treadmill and bragging about the calories you almost burned.

“Jeff! Guess what? My goal was 300 calories today. I burned 250. I absolutely love how I never quite reach 300, and I’m going to keep doing this forever.”

According to discussions popularised by behavioural psychology writers (often attributed to a Berlin-based psychologist, Dr. Lena Hoffmann), many self-improvement enthusiasts exhibit what psychologists broadly refer to as avoidance coping, or more colloquially, restless avoidance.

In simple terms: staying busy with self-care rituals not to heal, but to avoid confronting the uncomfortable stuff beneath the surface.

These individuals aren’t necessarily trying to become healed people.

They’re trying to become people who never experienced pain in the first place. It’s less about integration and more about erasure.

An article on medium captures this well, noting that for some individuals, self-improvement is approached as a corrective procedure, an attempt to remove perceived flaws, suppress fear responses, and eliminate emotional complexity, rather than understand it.

Reading this led me to an uncomfortable question:

When I say, “I want to be a better person,” what do I actually mean?

Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced. -James Baldwin

Am I aiming to become me, but better, or an entirely new creature with none of my original dents, bruises, or emotional baggage?

If I’m being honest, most of the time it’s the latter. And that is where the paradox reveals itself.

Ironically, research and observation suggest that people who engage least in obsessive healing behaviours often display greater psychological stability.

Which brings me to my best friend Ryan, one of the most psychologically okay people I know (and I don’t say that lightly, because we’re almost equally insane). You will never catch him taking a cold shower, let alone an ice bath.

He isn’t perfect, he isn’t optimised, and he certainly isn’t “working on himself” in any visible or aesthetic way. And yet, he’s remarkably content being just Ryan. No constant fixing, no endless healing routines or whatever, just a not so quiet acceptance of who he is, flaws included. In a world obsessed with self-improvement, Ryan is living proof that psychological stability doesn’t always come from doing more, but from resisting the urge to treat yourself like a problem that needs solving.

And that’s when it hit me.

Half the time I embark on a “self-improvement journey,” it hasn’t been because I love myself and want to grow, it’s because I see myself as fundamentally broken and in need of fixing. Maybe because someone did a thing when I was nine (or whatever age these things happen) that left me hurt and in constant seek of an escape.

 After all my attempts at healing, I wasn’t peaceful. I was restless. Not because I wasn’t trying hard enough, but because my efforts were rooted in self-rejection.

Don’t get me wrong, you should absolutely work on yourself. Growth matters. Reflection matters. But when the work is driven by a fear of inadequacy, it becomes counterproductive. Healing is far more effective when it comes from curiosity and compassion, not from a belief that you’re unworthy as you are.

What if, the goal shouldn’t be to outgrow the pain but to learn how to walk alongside it instead of turning our lives into a constant renovating project. Pause, let your nerves experience existence without correction. Heal not because you’re broken, but because you’re alive. And if that means occasionally skipping the cold shower and sitting with yourself as you are, you might be healing just fine. (On a totally unrelated note, when you're done sitting with yourself as you are, don't skip the warm shower before getting into the bus).

At the end of the day, it's important to note that growth and betterment shouldn't be a requirement for self-worth. You don't have to be any particular way to be deserving of your own love.

Love,

Me <3.

P. S.: It gets better, always.