What Does the Theology of the Body Have to Do with Mental Health?

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Which is more important to your health, your mind or your body? How you or your health care provider answers that question has real implications for your well-being.

Most of us treat the body and mind as two separate entities, reaching for a pill for physical pain and going to therapy for emotional struggles. Inevitably, this divide leaves us feeling fragmented and poorly served by modern medicine.

But the Catholic Church has long insisted that body and mind are not competing entities, but are profoundly united. Spirit and matter “are not two natures united, but rather their union forms a single nature” (Catechism #365).

It’s a radically countercultural doctrine. For centuries, influential thinkers have pulled this unity apart. On one side, Plato and René Descartes treated the body as a sort of prison for the mind; early pioneers of psychology like Freud and Skinner followed suit by largely ignoring the body’s role in mental health. On the other side, materialist philosophers claimed that the human being is nothing more than a complex biological machine—a view that resurfaced when the discovery of psychiatric medications led many modern experts to reduce mental health to “chemical imbalances” in the brain.

In recent decades, modern science has come to recognize that mind and body are a single, deeply connected system. The Catholic Church has known this for centuries, and in the writings of Pope John Paul II, now known as the Theology of the Body, that ancient truth has been developed into a comprehensive framework for understanding the human person.

The Theology of the Body is foundational to the way the pastoral counselors at CatholicCounselors.com approach pastoral therapy. Here’s what it teaches and why it matters for your mental health.

A Roadmap for Human Wellness

When St. John Paul II became pope in 1978, he brought with him a manuscript he had been developing for years on what it means to be a human person. His starting point, as Dr. Popcak describes on the More2Life radio show, was this: if we took everything God has given us—creation, Scripture, salvation history, all of it—what universal principles could we discover about living a more abundant life and having healthier, holier relationships?

The answer became a comprehensive vision of the human person: what it means to be human, how we are wired for mental and emotional flourishing, and how we relate to one another. This vision became known as the Theology of the Body, and several of its insights speak directly to mental health.

Your Body is Speaking. Are You Listening?

One of TOB’s central claims is that our bodies are part of how God communicates his design for us. As Lisa Popcak explains on the show, drawing on St. Thomas Aquinas, God speaks to us through every cell of our bodies. Aquinas called this the Book of Nature—the idea that how God designed us, body, mind, and spirit, reveals his plan for how we are meant to live and relate to one another.

“Theology of the Body reminds us that biology is theology,” Dr. Popcak explains. “By prayerfully reflecting on the way God built our bodies and brains, we can discern important insights about what it takes to live a healthy, holy life.”

The human body offers numerous examples of this principle at work.

  • The face. The human face has roughly 43 muscles dedicated almost entirely to emotional expression—far more than almost any other animal. Humans are also unique among primates in having visible whites of the eyes, which allows others to track exactly where we are looking and what we are paying attention to. We are, literally, built to be
     “read” and to “read” others. The body reveals that we are made for mutual knowing.
  • Mirror neurons. God wired the human brain with mirror neurons—cells that fire when we observe another person’s emotional state, producing a similar feeling in ourselves. This is the neurological basis for empathy. We are designed not merely to observe others’ inner lives, but to share them.
  • Touch. Physical touch—a hand on a shoulder, a long hug from someone you trust—triggers the release of oxytocin, a hormone that reduces cortisol, lowers heart rate, and builds a sense of safety and trust. Research shows that holding someone’s hand during a stressful situation measurably reduces their physiological stress response. The body is designed to give and receive comfort through physical presence—another form of self-donation.
  • Secure attachment. When people feel securely connected to God and others, their nervous system operates in a calmer, more integrated state. The body’s social engagement system is literally activated by felt safety in relationship. Isolation, by contrast, keeps the nervous system in a low-grade state of vigilance and threat. This is why withdrawal from God and others doesn’t just feel painful—it physiologically disrupts our capacity to function well.
  • Anxiety. Brain science tells us that anxiety is not primarily a response to external problems, but acts as a warning signal that something is wrong in our connections to God and others. “Rather than being a direct response to problems,” Lisa Popcak explains, “anxiety is actually a sign that we feel disconnected from people—the people that God has placed in our life to support us. The key to regaining our peace is working to restore that sense of communion and connection.” When we feel anxious, the body is sending a message: go find safe, healthy people.

Physical symptoms like panic attacks, chronic tension, and persistent exhaustion follow the same logic. They are often the body making visible some dysfunction in the mind or spirit. Medication may help manage those symptoms, but lasting healing requires attending to the whole person.

We Are Wired for Communion

These five examples point toward one of TOB’s most practically important teachings: we are made for communion. Not just in the sense that other people are nice to have around, but in the deeper sense that we are literally strongest when connected to God and to one another—physically, neurologically, and spiritually designed to give and receive love.

As Dr. Popcak puts it, isolation doesn’t just leave us running low; it actively drains us. When problems cause us to withdraw from God and the people we love, our brains change in ways that make us feel powerless, overwhelmed, and alone.

This understanding that we are made for relationship shapes the Popcaks’ approach to specific problems. When a caller struggles with anxiety, for example, the conversation might move toward examining what connections in their life feel threatened or broken. Other times, when someone lacks the confidence to tackle a tough problem, the Popcaks urge the practice of receptivity, which Lisa explains as “the ability to listen to God in the moment so we’re not just relying on our own strength or our own instincts or even our own fears to guide us.”

Suffering is Not the End of the Story

Perhaps the deepest gift the Theology of the Body offers to people in pain is a way to understand their suffering.

As the Popcaks explain, every human story follows the pattern of the larger biblical story of God’s relationship with humanity.

  1. Chapter one is original man—who God created us to be before sin: “secure, whole, capable of loving and being loved totally without fear.”
  2. Chapter two is historical man—the wounded people we are now, “living in a fallen world, carrying the scars of sins committed against us and the sins and mistakes that we’ve made.”
  3. Chapter three is eschatological man—the people we are becoming, day by day, through God’s healing grace. Ultimately, we are destined to be fully restored and glorified in Christ.

The paschal mystery—Christ’s suffering, death, and Resurrection—blazed a path for us from chapter two to chapter three. Because Christ took on a human body, he did not suffer abstractly. He suffered physically and emotionally (body and mind): exhaustion, grief, betrayal, abandonment, and death. Human suffering does not have to be meaningless: God himself has walked this territory, and because he has, he can lead us through it.

“Even in the middle of difficult times,” Lisa says, “God wants to show us how to respond to what we’re going through in a way that helps us to become the people he created us to be, and to work for the good of those around us.”

It is tempting to think that our wounds, our struggles, and our bad habits define who we are. But the Theology of the Body insists otherwise.

“Our past may explain some things about us,” Dr. Popcak says, “but it’s grace that defines us.”

Body, Mind, and Spirit Working Together

Pastoral counseling rooted in the Theology of the Body doesn’t treat the body, mind, and spirit as separate departments. It understands them as interlocking dimensions of a single human experience. Tackling relational or personal problems means taking all three into account, and the Theology of the Body offers a framework for doing exactly that.

If you’d like to explore what that kind of integrated healing might look like in your own life, reach out to any of the pastoral counselors at CatholicCounselors.com.

5 Common Blocks to Real Forgiveness (and How to Overcome Them)

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A major new study confirms that forgiveness is good for your mental health.

That’s not exactly a shocker for Christians, who have been hearing about the spiritual benefits of forgiveness from Scripture and the saints for two thousand years. But before we yawn and move on, consider how those spiritual benefits cascade into every aspect of our lives.

Led by researchers at Harvard and published in ​npj Mental Health Research, the study tracked more than 200,000 people in 23 countries and found that the real benefits come not from isolated acts of forgiveness, but from what researchers call “dispositional forgivingness” — forgiveness practiced as a habitual way of moving through life. People who forgive that way tend to report meaningfully better well-being across a range of measures, especially in psychological health: happiness, sense of meaning, and reduced depression.

Okay, so just like Jesus said, forgiveness is the way to go. Most Christians get that. Where we run into problems, though, is actually forgiving…much less making forgiveness a life habit.

When we run into roadblocks, how do we overcome them to find real forgiveness?

Forgiveness Roadblocks…and How to Overcome Them

Rachael Isaac is a pastoral counselor at the Pastoral Solutions Institute who regularly helps clients work through their difficulty forgiving others. She identifies five common roadblocks that often get in the way…and the strategies that help people overcome them.

1. When You Believe Forgiving Means Forgetting

By far the most common roadblock to forgiveness, she says, is the widespread belief that forgiveness means moving on as if nothing happened.

“A lot of people think that forgiving someone means forgetting everything that they did — being in a relationship and acting like everything’s fine,” she says.

But there’s a real difference between forgiveness and reconciliation. Forgiveness, she says, “doesn’t mean that I’m forgetting everything that they did and I’m relinquishing all of my boundaries and we’re in relationship again. But it does mean I’m not allowing the hurt, the anger, the resentment to dictate my choices anymore.”

In other words, forgiveness is not the same thing as reconciliation. Forgiveness is about getting to a place where you can genuinely wish the other person well — even when you don’t feel like it. Reconciliation, on the other hand, means that the person who hurt you has done the work necessary to be safe around and build a relationship with.

We’ve covered the difference between forgiveness and reconciliation before; you can learn more in our blog archives.

2. When you feel like you need their permission

One of the most subtle and persistent blocks Isaac encounters is what she describes as a felt need for permission — specifically, the sense that you need something from the person who hurt you before you can forgive them. That “something” might be remorse, an apology, or a change of behavior.

“It comes from this place of powerlessness — like, I don’t feel like I have the power to do this on my own,” Isaac says. “I need permission from this other person.”

But when we delay forgiveness until the other person says the right thing or shows the right remorse, we’re really empowering them to control our interior life.

“I’m basing my choices for myself off of my resentment or anger or hurt,” Isaac explains. “I’m letting that other person decide for me rather than me deciding for myself.”

The path forward is recognizing that forgiveness is a choice that belongs entirely to you. Waiting for their “permission” makes you a hostage, emotionally yanked one way or another by the other person’s behavior. Forgiveness, on the other hand, frees you from the emotional control of the other person.

3. When anger feels like you’re doing something

A second block is the unconscious belief that holding on to resentment and anger is getting you somewhere.

“We hold onto anger and resentment because it feels like we’re punishing the other person,” Isaac says. “But really, we’re just punishing ourselves.” Even if the other person is aware of your anger, it almost certainly doesn’t affect them as much as it does you.

And the effect it has on you isn’t good. The Harvard study cited above found that unforgiveness results in higher rates of depression, anxiety, and the negative physical effects of a sustained stress response.

Isaac’s practical tool for cutting through this is a simple self-check: “Is this helping me, or is this hurting me?”

For people who still have difficulty letting go of anger and resentment, she sometimes recommends a “poison pen” exercise — writing a letter to the person who hurt you, saying everything you would want to say, and then destroying it.

“It allows you to process your thoughts and open the drain a little bit on the anger and resentment that’s building up,” she says.

4. When forgiveness feels like surrender

Perhaps the most widespread misunderstanding Isaac encounters is the belief that to forgive is to forget — to lower your guard, drop your limits, and silently signal that what happened was somehow acceptable.

It isn’t. And God himself doesn’t model it that way.

“God doesn’t call us to forgive and forget,” she says. “Yes, he calls us to forgiveness — but so that we get unstuck and can move towards meaningfulness and intimacy and virtue.”

This circles back to our earlier discussion of the difference between forgiveness and reconciliation. Forgiveness is about freeing yourself from your desire to hurt the person who hurt you. That desire for retribution is replaced by a desire for the other person’s well-being.

But here’s the key: wanting the other person to be well doesn’t mean letting them off the hook. Instead, it means helping them, when possible, to take accountability for their actions. That’s the only way they will find healing and wholeness.

5. When the hurt keeps happening

In Matthew 18:21-22, Jesus tells Peter to forgive others not just seven times, but “seventy times seven” (or seventy-seven times, depending on the translation).

This can be misinterpreted, though. Jesus isn’t asking us to give the other person permission to keep hurting us over and over. Remember, forgiveness only requires us to let go of our impulse to hurt the other person back.

“Forgiveness is not wishing that person ill,” Isaac says. “But I’m also not going to let you keep treating me that way.”

That might mean requiring certain conditions for the relationship to continue, significantly reducing contact, or in some cases ending the relationship altogether.

These actions could be retaliatory if your reason for taking them is to punish or hurt the other person. But healthy boundaries are sometimes necessary not only for your own well-being but for the other person’s as well. Placing limits on a relationship in order to prevent the other person from sinning against you is entirely consistent with forgiveness.

Isaac recalls working with a client whose husband was so persistently and intentionally harmful that no amount of good faith or effort on her part could change the dynamic.

“You can’t do anything with that, because he’s not willing to do the work it takes to be in a healthy relationship,” she says. “It’s not on her for walking away from that situation. That’s on him.”

Through all of it, Isaac encourages clients to bring God into the ongoing work of forgiveness — actively, not passively. She suggests praying along these lines: “Lord, what’s going to give me clarity? What’s going to help me move towards the healing that you want for me?”

Getting unstuck

Isaac’s clinical experience backs up the findings of the Harvard research on the benefits of forgiveness. When her clients stop giving resentment power over their choices, she says, real change tends to follow.

“Forgiveness opens that door to healthier relationship,” she says. “Forgiving and saying I’m not going to let this person have power over me and my actions definitely leads towards increased mental health.”

For more help working through the practical and spiritual dimensions of forgiveness, check out Dr. Greg Popcak’s God Help Me! These People Are Driving Me Nuts! and Rachael Isaac’s digital journal Not Me First, But Me Too — a simple system for honoring your own needs without guilt. And for one-on-one support, reach out to Rachael Isaac or another pastoral counselor at CatholicCounselors.com.

Is Suffering Always the Holiest Choice? Not Necessarily.

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Here are a few fun facts, courtesy of marketing expert Rory Sutherland:

  • Even though Coke Zero and Diet Coke both offer zero calories, many people prefer Diet Coke. Why? Because it tastes slightly bitter rather than sweet, leading people to believe it is the true “diet” beverage.
  •  Household insecticides are often formulated to smell bad so consumers will perceive them as more effective.
  • Certain items (like wine) actually sell better at a higher price.

The weird psychological myth that leads people to believe that “the worst thing is actually the best thing” is all very good for marketers like Sutherland.

But when Catholics buy into this myth in their spiritual lives, the consequences can be disastrous, says pastoral counselor, Jacob Popcak.

The Suffering-Is-Always-Good Myth

Jacob Popcak, a pastoral counselor with CatholicCounselors.com, sees this pattern in some of his clients. Faced with some problem — a chronic medical condition, unhealthy relationships, unfulfilling work — they believe that the faithful response is to patiently endure the situation rather than taking action to make a positive change. They see quietly enduring the problem as “carrying their cross,” whereas making a positive change — setting healthy boundaries, looking for another job, accepting medical help — feels selfish.

“That’s not mysticism, that’s masochism,” Jacob explained on a recent episode of More2Life with Dr. Greg and Lisa Popcak.

Yes, the cross is central to authentic Christian faith, and Catholics believe in the possibility of redemptive suffering. But here’s the key: Jesus didn’t suffer and die on the cross for the sake of suffering and death; he did it to achieve a much greater good.

“Suffering, as Aquinas tells us, for its own sake is not a good,” he said. It may be something we encounter on the path to greater virtue or deeper union with God — but it is never the destination.

Scripture supports this. Hosea 6:6 and Matthew 9:13, among other passages, carry the same message from God: “I desire love, not sacrifice.” Not the absence of sacrifice, but a clear priority — love first, virtue first, the most genuinely good and meaningful choice first.

“It’s really important to not just assume that God is calling you to do the thing that would be the most painful or the most miserable,” Popcak says. Instead, take a deep breath, relax your shoulders, and ask yourself, “What course of action will bring me more intimacy with God and others? What is the most loving option?”

Of course, choosing the most loving option might indeed involve some kind of suffering. Giving up a higher paying job in order to have more time with your children, for example, is a real sacrifice. But it’s a sacrifice motivated by love, with a good outcome.

Three Questions to Ask Yourself

When you’re feeling depleted and stuck, Jacob Popcak suggests stepping back from the assumption that staying miserable is the holy option. Instead, ask yourself:

1. Is this suffering leading anywhere?

There’s a difference between the discomfort of genuine growth — standing up to a difficult person, having a hard conversation, making a necessary change — and simply enduring the same painful situation indefinitely. The first can be redemptive. The second may just be avoidance dressed up as virtue.

2. What would be the most loving choice?

Not the most painful, not the most self-denying — the most loving. For yourself, for the people around you, for the relationship or situation you’re trying to improve.

3. Am I turning toward God and others, or away from them?

Dr. Greg Popcak offered a helpful image: isolation under stress is like a phone battery draining in the cold. “Isolation doesn’t just leave us running low, it actively drains us,” he said. If your default response to stress is to white-knuckle it alone, that’s worth examining. We’re made for communion — with God and with the people he’s placed in our lives.

The Holiest Choice Always Leads Somewhere Good

None of this means avoiding real sacrifice when it’s called for; sometimes the loving choice is the harder one. But the starting point for discernment isn’t assuming that the hardest option is the holiest one. Instead, it’s always asking, “What will bring the most good — for me, the people I love, and in my relationship with God?”

If you’ve been white-knuckling a situation and calling it holiness, it may be worth a second look. For support in discerning the difference, reach out to Jacob Popcak or another pastoral counselor at CatholicCounselors.com.

He Gets It: What the Passion and Resurrection Reveal About Your Pain, Your Life, and Your Relationships

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There is a question that sits quietly underneath so many of our struggles:

“Does anyone actually understand what this feels like?”

Not in theory, not from a distance, but really understand.

Because when you’re overwhelmed…
When your relationships feel heavy…
When you’re carrying stress, grief, loneliness, or exhaustion…

It can feel incredibly isolating.

Even when you’re surrounded by people.

 

Holy Week answers that question in a way nothing else can:

You are not alone in anything you experience.

Not one emotion.
Not one fear.
Not one moment of pain.

Because in the Passion, Jesus didn’t just suffer—
He entered into the full human experience.

He Knows What It Feels Like

If you’ve ever…

Felt anxious about what’s ahead → Jesus in the Garden
Asked “Is there another way?” → Jesus before His arrest
Felt abandoned or alone → “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
Been misunderstood or falsely judged → His trial
Been betrayed by someone close to you → Judas, Peter
Felt rejected → The crowd choosing Barabbas
Experienced physical or emotional exhaustion → Carrying the cross
Felt exposed, vulnerable, or humiliated → The crucifixion

He’s been there.

Not symbolically.
Not metaphorically.

Personally.

This is what makes Christianity so unique in the realm of both faith and mental health:

We don’t follow a God who observes suffering.

We follow a God who entered into it.

 

So often, our pain intensifies when we feel alone in it.

Isolation doesn’t just happen physically—it happens internally.

It sounds like:

“No one gets this.”
“I shouldn’t feel this way.”
“I just need to push through.”
“Other people have it worse.”

But Holy Week interrupts that narrative.

Because Jesus doesn’t minimize your experience.
He validates it by having lived it.

And at the same time—He doesn’t leave you in it.

He Is With You in It, Not Just Waiting on the Other Side

Sometimes we think of God as waiting for us at the finish line.

“Once I get through this… then I’ll be okay. Then God will show up.”

But the Passion tells a different story.

God meets us:

In the anxiety
In the conflict
In the grief
In the confusion
In the exhaustion

He is not just present in your healing.

He is present in your process.

And the Resurrection Means This Isn’t the End

If the Passion tells us, “He understands,”
the Resurrection tells us, “There is hope.”

Because no matter what you are facing:

A struggling relationship
A season of burnout
Old wounds that keep resurfacing
Patterns you’re trying to break

This is not where your story has to end.

The Resurrection doesn’t erase what happened.

It transforms what seemed final into something that can be redeemed.

 

When we begin to live from this truth—that we are understood, accompanied, and not alone—it changes how we show up with others.

We become:

Less reactive, because we’re not fighting our pain alone
More compassionate, because we recognize suffering in others
More grounded, because our identity isn’t dependent on others’ responses
More capable of real connection, because we’re not hiding

We stop asking others to fully carry what only God can hold.

And from that place, we can love more freely and more fully.

An Invitation for This Week

As you walk through Holy Week and into Easter, consider this:

Where in your life do you feel most alone right now?

Bring that place to Him.

Not the cleaned-up version.
Not the “I should be fine” version.

The real version.

Because He’s already been there.

And He’s not just saying,
“I understand.”

He’s saying,
“I’m here. Right here, in this with you.”

And I will walk with you—
through the cross,
through the silence,
and into new life.

What Alysa Liu Can Teach You About Not Letting the “Shoulds” Run the Show

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When Alysa Liu won gold at the Milan Olympics, she ended a 24-year U.S. “gold-medal drought” in women’s figure skating. That fact alone would have been enough to propel her to celebrity status.

But it isn’t so much her technical performance that has entranced ordinary fans and professional commentators alike; instead, people can’t stop talking about the attitude she carried onto the ice: loose, joyful, and unburdened by any expectations. Unlike other athletes at the Olympics who were undone by nerves, Liu’s relaxed, fun approach not only won gold, but fans’ hearts, too.

That performance caught the attention of pastoral counselor Rachael Isaac, who had been following the women’s figure skating competition. Liu, she says, shows what it looks like when a person works on getting out of their own way.

The “Shoulds” That Hold Us Back

“She doesn’t subscribe to the ‘shoulds,’” Rachael says, by which she means the self-talk that says, “you should do this, you shouldn’t do that.” Liu, for instance, was told during her early teens that she should practice every day, that she shouldn’t eat certain foods, and that she should value winning above all else.

The “shoulds” shape how we approach everyday opportunities, relationships, and decisions. They tell us we’re not ready, not qualified, not the kind of person who does this sort of thing. They keep us stuck.

From a psychological standpoint, Rachael explains, those “should” thoughts originate in the limbic system—the reactive, fear-driven part of the brain. Confidence, by contrast, draws on the prefrontal cortex—the part capable of solution-focused thinking: I have this strength that can help me figure this out as I go.

Nothing to Prove and Everything to Share

The Theology of the Body has something to say here, Rachael says. God has given each of us unique gifts, strengths, and talents—and we’re called to use them in our own specific way, not measure them against someone else’s.

“We’re all unique and unrepeatable people with our own gifts and strengths,” she says. Realizing the unique person God made us to be frees us from having to be like everyone else.

When our identity is grounded in God’s love for us, the uncertainty that might otherwise paralyze us evaporates. If God has equipped us with the gifts and strengths that we need and is always working with us, then we don’t have to have everything all figured out, nor do we need certainty about how things will turn out.

Liu’s ability to let go of outcomes — she famously said that it didn’t matter whether she medaled — enabled her to focus on simply sharing her gifts with the world, leading to her beautiful performance.

Rachael points to the motto she picked up from her dance instructor years ago: I have nothing to prove and everything to share. That phrase changed the entire dynamic of the class—and she sees it as exactly what Liu embodied on the ice in Milan.

Banish the “Shoulds” with These Three Steps

If you recognize the “should” trap in your own life, here are three practical steps to begin breaking free.

1. Write out your “shoulds”

The first move is awareness. Take a few minutes to identify and write down the “should” thoughts that most often run through your mind:

  •  I should be better at this.
  •  I should know where God is leading me before I act.
  •  Everyone else is panicking; shouldn’t I be anxious, too?
  •  Everyone expects me to take this promotion, so I should probably take it.

Getting them on paper creates some distance. You’re no longer just living inside those thoughts—you can look at them.

2. Label each one: helpful or hurtful?

Once you have your list, go through it and ask yourself honestly whether each thought is helping you move forward or holding you back. “If I recognize consciously that this ‘should,’ this thought that I’m having, is actually hurtful,” Rachael says, “it’s easier for our brain to disconnect from it a little bit instead of getting locked down on it.”

This isn’t about dismissing hard truths. It’s about noticing when a thought is driving you toward fear and rigidity rather than toward God and growth.

3. Write a counter thought—grounded in evidence

For each hurtful “should,” write a replacement thought that is both helpful and true. Not wishful thinking, but evidence-based: the actual gifts and strengths you bring to this situation.

“A lot of times those ‘shoulds’ aren’t evidence-based,” Rachael says. “They’re emotionally based.” A counter thought anchors you in reality—including the reality that God is present and working in you.

You can close this exercise with prayer: Lord, help me to see where you’re leading me. Help me to see and acknowledge the gifts and strengths you’ve given me. Help me to trust that you’re going to continue to empower me through those gifts and strengths, so that I can keep acting even when there’s uncertainty.

Getting Out of the Way

Alysa Liu didn’t suppress her nerves through sheer willpower; she had done enough inner work to stop letting the “shoulds” run the show—which freed her to be fully present, fully herself, and fully capable of doing what she’d trained to do.

The same is possible for the rest of us. When we stop measuring ourselves against a checklist of “shoulds” and start trusting the gifts God has actually given us, we stop holding ourselves back. We can act, move, and let God direct us from there.

For more personalized support in building this kind of God-grounded confidence, reach out to Rachael Isaac or another pastoral counselor at CatholicCounselors.com.

Assertive Isn’t Selfish: A Catholic Guide to Healthy Love

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By Dr. Gregory Popcak

The Theology of the Body reminds us that Christian love is not meant to be one-sided. While we are certainly called to be generous, sacrificial, and attentive to the needs of others, we are not called to ignore or suppress our own needs. In fact, St. John Paul II taught that the key to healthy, holy Christian relationships is “mutual self-giving.” Love flourishes when everyone involved is committed to giving what they can for the good of the other—and to receiving that love in return.

One of the biggest misunderstandings Christians struggle with is the idea that acknowledging our needs—much less asserting them–is somehow contrary to living an authentic Christian life. But TOB teaches us something very different. God is the author of our needs. A need is not just something required to survive; it is anything necessary for us to flourish as the persons God created us to be. Emotional connection, respect, rest, affection, support, and meaning are not luxuries—they are part of God’s design for human life.

When our legitimate needs are met, we thrive. And when we thrive, God is glorified in our flourishing. This means it is not only appropriate but healthy to expect that the people who say they love us will be responsive to our needs, just as we strive to be responsive to theirs. Mutual responsiveness is not selfishness; it is the very structure of love.
This is where the distinction between assertiveness and selfishness becomes essential. A selfish person is focused exclusively on themselves. They want what they want, how they want it, and when they want it, with little concern for how that affects others. Christian assertiveness looks very different. A responsible, assertive Christian is clear and honest about what they need, but also remains flexible and respectful about how and when that need is met. The goal is not control; it is communion.

TOB reminds us that we were created for intimate communion with God and with one another. Intimacy cannot exist where needs are hidden, denied, or dismissed. True closeness grows when we are able to say, “This is what I need,” and when the other person can respond with generosity and care. Likewise, love deepens when we are willing to hear the needs of others without becoming defensive or dismissive.

Of course, expressing needs does not guarantee they will always be met perfectly or immediately. But consistently silencing ourselves out of fear, guilt, or a mistaken sense of holiness leads to resentment, burnout, and emotional distance. That kind of self-erasure does not reflect Christ. Jesus gave Himself completely—but He also rested, withdrew to pray, asked for support, and allowed others to minister to Him. Mutual self-gift always includes mutual care.

Healthy Christian relationships are not about keeping score or demanding perfection. They are about a shared commitment to help one another become more fully alive. When we learn to express our needs clearly and charitably, listen to the needs of others with compassion, and work together to find solutions that respect everyone involved, we begin to experience the kind of love God intended from the beginning.

In that kind of relationship, no one disappears. Everyone is seen. Everyone is invited to give—and to receive. And in that mutual self-giving, the love of God becomes visible in the world.

If you would like support it making this change in your life or relationships, reach out for personal support from our pastoral counselors at CatholicCounselors.com.