Clean Pain vs. Dirty Pain: Telling the Truth to Your Nervous System

This season has reminded me of something I often share with clients, and try to practice myself, especially in the harder moments:

The difference between clean pain and dirty pain, a concept shared by therapist, author and my teacher Resmaa Menakem, whose work around somatics, trauma, race, and healing has deeply shaped my own.

It’s a distinction that lives not just in our minds, but in our bodies.

Clean Pain: The Pain That Moves

Clean pain is the ache of what actually happened.
It’s the grief of a loss you didn’t choose.
The sadness that comes with change.
The discomfort of telling the truth.
The heartbreak of letting something (or someone) go.

Clean pain is real, and it’s often sharp—but it moves.
It arises when we face what is, instead of running from it. It may break us open, but it doesn’t break us apart. We can metabolize this pain.

You might feel it as:

  • A tight chest that loosens after a good cry

  • The exhaustion after a vulnerable conversation

  • The body’s exhale when it’s finally safe to name what hurts

Clean pain is the body saying, Yes. That happened. And I can feel it now.

Dirty Pain: The Pain of Avoidance

Dirty pain, on the other hand, is the suffering that comes when we resist that truth.
It’s the tension of pretending you’re okay when you’re not.
It’s the loop of shame, blame, or “I should’ve known better.”
It’s the self-silencing we’ve learned to do to protect others, or to keep functioning.

Dirty pain sounds like:

  • “It wasn’t that bad, other people have it worse.”

  • “I should be over this by now.”

  • “If I really let myself feel this, I’ll fall apart.”

We’ve been conditioned—especially those of us socialized as caretakers, women, or people from marginalized communities—to downplay, dismiss, or delay our pain.
We’ve been taught to make it digestible for others.

But the truth is: suppressing pain doesn’t make it go away. It just makes it louder, more tangled, and more likely to show up in ways we don’t want.

Pain That Moves vs. Pain That Sticks

When you let yourself feel clean pain, your nervous system can process and integrate it.
You might not like it—but you’re not fighting it.
There’s grief, yes—but also clarity. Groundedness. Healing.

When you stay stuck in dirty pain, your body stays in a state of tension, disconnection, or collapse.
You may appear “fine” on the outside—but inside, your system is looping in protection.

This isn’t about bypassing or trauma-dumping. It’s about giving yourself permission to feel what’s true—so it can move through, not move in.

You Don’t Have to Do It Alone

Feeling pain—especially clean pain—can be scary. But you don’t have to sit with it in isolation.

You can metabolize it in therapy, in coaching, in safe community or with trusted people who can hold space for your truth. You can move it with somatic practices, through breath, tears, sound, rest, or movement.

We don’t often get to choose what hurts, but we do get to choose how we meet that hurt.

And when we choose presence over avoidance, honesty over perfection, clean pain over dirty pain, we choose healing.

A Somatic Check-In: What’s Present Right Now?

If you’re noticing pain in your system, pause for a moment.

Ask yourself:
“Am I feeling clean pain… or dirty pain right now?”
“Is this the truth… or my resistance to it?”

Then notice:

  • What sensations are present in your body?

  • What softens when you acknowledge the pain as it is?

  • Is there a breath, a sound, a movement your body wants to make?

Gentle Call to Action

This work takes courage—and you don’t have to do it alone.

I share weekly reflections like this, along with somatic tools, nervous system practices, and nervous system-friendly reminders for when life gets messy. If you’d like to receive them:

Sign up for the newsletter here.

Your pain deserves space. Your healing deserves support. And your body already holds the wisdom to move through it.

Sending love,
Cass

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Glimmers: Small Moments That Tell Your Body You’re Safe