When Self-Compassion Doesn’t Land
On working with backdraft
I remember the first self-compassion retreat I attended. Around fifty participants had congregated at a retreat centre in California, and we filed into a giant tent laid out with backjacks and cushions. I looked around: there was an excitement in the air, like people were ready - really ready - for this moment and for the teachings we were about to receive.
We sat down, and the facilitators opened with a meditation. Around me, eyes closed, hands settled at heart centres. As the teacher led us through the practice, people began to weep.
On my cushion, I was experiencing the human equivalent of a cat about to be dunked in water. My body felt tense - every fibre of my being retracting from the moment, as if trying to claw my way out of something unseen.
If my body could have physically backed away, it would have - arched spine, fur on end, desperate to find an escape route. But there was nowhere to go. I was trapped in stillness, caught between the expectation to surrender and the overwhelming instinct to flee. Around me, people were softening, leaning deeper into the practice with a kind of openness I couldn’t access.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh,” they sighed in unison, prompted by the teacher. While they eased into a state of parasympathetic bliss, I felt something more akin to an internal scream.
Why wasn’t I feeling what they were feeling? In my mind, I wanted to be here, and to experience first hand this self-compassion practice that I had studied for so long. But in my body, I felt nothing but a sour mix of cynicism, physical discomfort, and emotional numbness. And I had another five days of retreat to go.
What Is Backdraft?
Self-compassion is intended to help us respond to our pain with kindness, care, and understanding. But what happens when self-compassion doesn’t seem to land? When, no matter how much we know it’s good for us - or how many times we tell ourselves to be kind - the message doesn’t quite stick?
And worse: when everyone else seems to be feeling it, and you just feel… nothing. Or worse: activated, tense, numb, resistant.
This phenomenon has a name in compassion training: backdraft. Borrowed from firefighting, the term describes what happens when a door is opened and oxygen rushes into a space that’s been starved of air, igniting flames.
In the context of self-compassion, backdraft refers to the distress that can arise when we begin to offer care to parts of ourselves that have long gone neglected, criticised, or shut down. It’s as though our hearts are carrying hot coals of suffering - manageable when we keep a lid on things - but when we start to open the door to our own pain, things can flare up.
Instead of immediate relief, we may feel overwhelm, resistance, or a deep sense of discomfort. It can be disorienting, and if we don’t understand what’s happening, we might assume we’re doing it wrong, or that compassion just doesn’t work for us.
But these responses are not signs of failure. They’re signs that something tender is being touched. They also contain great wisdom, if we know how to listen.
Working Gently with Resistance
If you’ve ever struggled to feel the effects of self-compassion - or had your own cat-in-the-water experience - I feel you. But resistance doesn’t mean you’re broken or that compassion is not for you. Here are a few gentle ways to work with it:
Normalise the experience. Know that resistance and numbness are common and expected parts of the journey, especially for those with trauma histories or chronic self-criticism.
Recognise the signs. Resistance doesn’t always show up in the way we might expect. You might notice yourself yawning or feeling bored, angry, or cynical. It can be helpful to become familiar with the signs that you are “closing” - feeling emotionally or physically withdrawn or shutdown. You might also pay attention to what its like when you feel more “open” - that is, engaged and receptive.
Soften the approach. You don’t have to dive headfirst into self-kindness. Sometimes, just noticing your resistance with curiosity is the practice. While we might initially default to “I’m failing at self-compassion, too,” see if you can use this as an opportunity to practice giving yourself grace. Struggling to be kind to yourself - whether its because you feel you don’t deserve it, or because you struggle to be aware of how you’re feeling or what you need - is a form of suffering. Instead of getting caught up in judgement, you might say to yourself “It’s hard not knowing what I need. May I be patient with myself.”
Use indirect forms of care. If direct phrases like “May I be kind to myself” feel triggering, try doing something that directly activates your soothing system: for example, softening through breath, supportive touch, or grounding in nature.
Stay with the body. Self-compassion isn’t just a cognitive process. Often, it’s about noticing what your body is telling you, and tending to it with care. Forcing yourself to “practice self-compassion” when your body is in fight or flight mode can be extremely counterproductive.
Seek community or guidance. Practicing in a supportive space, with teachers or peers who understand backdraft, can offer the validation and safety needed to keep going.
For Therapists: Meeting Resistance with Compassion in the Therapy Room
As therapists, we often want our clients to feel the healing qualities of self-compassion - and it can be hard when that just doesn’t happen. Here are some ways to gently work with backdraft in clinical work:
Pace the practice. Introduce self-compassion gradually, and gauge readiness. Often, offering a compassionate presence is more accessible than encouraging self-directed compassion early on. A challenge that Chris Germer sets for therapists is to introduce self-compassion to clients without mentioning self-compassion.
Validate the resistance. When clients feel like they’re “failing” at being kind to themselves, normalize the response. “It makes so much sense that this is hard right now.”
Get curious, not directive. Instead of inviting a client to say “May I be kind to myself,” you might ask, “What would it be like to offer yourself some understanding here?”
Work with parts. Drawing on Internal Family Systems or similar approaches, you can explore the protective parts that arise in response to self-compassion. What do they fear might happen if you soften?
Model it. Your own attunement, warmth, and self-compassion are powerful co-regulating tools. Sometimes clients feel their way into compassion through the way we hold them.
When we make room for backdraft, we send the message that there is no “wrong way” to do this work. We honour the wisdom in resistance, and we allow healing to unfold at its own pace.
finding the wisdom in resistance
For me, the rest of that retreat wasn’t smooth sailing. For days, I kept brushing up against my own edges - feeling like I was missing some essential piece everyone else had already found. My resistance showed up in all sorts of ways - fatigue, cynicism, anger and panic.
But something began to shift - not in the form of bliss or breakthrough, but in the slow, steady realisation that I could stay. I could stay with my experience, even when it was uncomfortable. I could soften my expectations. I could let myself be exactly where I was, and stop judging myself for not immediately getting it.
Over time, I recognised the wisdom in my resistance. I am now more able to get curious about where I get stuck, instead of getting frustrated with myself and trying to force it. I am also better able to recognise resistance in the people I work with - and together, to understand how we can soften it.
If you’ve ever sat in stillness and wanted to run, or tried to offer yourself kindness and felt nothing, you’re not alone.
This week, I invite you to explore the edges of your own self-compassion practice:
Can you notice any resistance that arises - without judgment?
What is your resistance telling you about what you need most?
Sometimes, the most compassionate thing we can do is to simply say:
“This is hard right now. And I’m doing the best I can.”
Let’s Continue the Conversation
If you have ever struggled with self-compassion - or if you have worked with people who do - I’d love to hear from you! Let me know in the comments how you work with backdraft and resistance.
Further Reading
Backdraft in Self-Compassion: An Overlooked Yet Vital Research Focus
