When the Body Sets the Pace
Updated: Aug 5
You probably have people in your life you’ve come to depend upon in ways you barely notice.
Over time, you’ve come to expect how they’ll show up. How they’ll respond. What you can ask of them without wondering whether they’ll be there. Their dependability becomes part of the structure of your relationship.
Then something changes.
The person can no longer respond as they once did. Not that the relationship matters any less, but because something in their circumstances or capacity has changed. What once was assumed without much thought now requires more attention. You have to listen more intentionally. Adjust what you expect of them. Learn how to show up differently yourself.
Something similar can happen in your relationship with your body.
For much of life, you may trust that your body will carry you through the day. You make plans, accept responsibilities, and expect to have the energy to spend time with the people you care about and participate in the activities that give your life meaning.
You don’t think about this trust because it doesn’t usually ask to be thought about.
Then cancer makes it visible.
“I don’t have the strength to do things like I used to.”
I often hear some version of this in my work. The sentence is not only about physical strength or fatigue. It describes a change in a relationship that had once felt dependable.
Your mind continues to make plans around the body it remembers. It expects to move through the day at the same pace, carry the same responsibilities, and show up for others in familiar ways.
When your body is living through cancer, it may answer differently.
Not all of that.
Not today.
Not at that pace.
When your body no longer responds as expected, it can feel like a betrayal. You may become frustrated with it or frightened by its unpredictability. You may feel guilty when you can’t help around the house, keep a commitment, or join the people you love in something you once wouldn’t have thought twice about doing.
You might turn that frustration toward yourself.
“I should be able to do more.”
“I used to be able to handle this.”
“I don’t understand why I can’t keep up.”
These thoughts are trying to hold your body to the terms of the relationship as it used to be. Your mind continues to make the same demands and expects the same responses as before.
Your body isn’t intentionally refusing to show up.
Its capacity has changed.
And now the relationship asks something more from you.
It asks you to notice what you may once have taken for granted. To listen before assuming. To consider what your body may need from you as you decide what you can expect from it.
This doesn’t mean giving your body sole authorship of your life. Listening isn’t the same as surrendering your choices. In any relationship, paying attention to another’s needs doesn’t require abandoning your own. It means allowing what is true for both of you to become part of the conversation.
Some days, showing up differently might mean resting. On another day, it might mean asking for help, changing a plan, or choosing to use the energy you have for something that matters enough to accept the cost.
The answer will not be the same from one day to the next.
Perhaps, before asking, “Why can’t my body do what it used to?” you might ask:
“What is my body telling me about what is possible today?”
And then:
“How do I want to respond?”
Trust changes, too. It no longer comes from expecting your body will respond predictably. It comes from knowing that you’ll pay attention to what is true between you now.
Your body is showing up differently than it once did.
It’s asking you to show up differently, too.
Your body signals the pace. You choose how to respond.
Reflections on the inner psychological experience of living alongside cancer.
Jae L. Ross, PsyD, is a clinical psychologist who works with individuals and families whose lives have been reshaped by cancer, helping them navigate the emotional challenges of diagnosis, treatment, and beyond.
Comments