If we had five quiet minutes together, here’s what I’d say:

I know what you’re thinking.

Another person claiming to have the answer. Another “method.” Another theory that probably only works if you already believe it will.

You’re skeptical—and you should be.

You’ve tried the stretches. The exercises. The foam rollers, the MRIs, the core work. Maybe even injections or surgery.

And now here I am, telling you it might not be your spine.

Not your posture. Not your mattress. Not your core.

But something emotional?

Yeah, I wouldn’t believe me either.

If you’d told me this ten years ago—back when I was hobbling to the bathroom in the morning, terrified to twist or bend—I would’ve rolled my eyes.

My pain was real. It stopped me from living. And the idea that it could be generated by my brain felt like a trick. Or worse, an insult.

But the truth is: pain is weird.

Real, debilitating, terrifying… but weird.

It shows up in people with normal scans. It disappears under anesthesia—even when the injury is still there. It flares. It moves. It changes intensity for no mechanical reason.

And yet we keep trying to fix it with tools meant for pulled muscles and broken bones.

“So what’s your explanation?”

Glad you asked.

Here’s what I believe—and what the science increasingly supports:

Chronic pain is often a false alarm in the brain’s danger system. A protective mechanism stuck in the “on” position. Not because you’re weak. Not because you’re imagining it. But because your brain is doing what it thinks is helpful:

Protecting you.

Sometimes from physical re-injury.

Sometimes from emotional pain.

This Is Where It Gets Personal

We’re not just flesh and bone. We’re emotional beings. Every disappointment, every unspoken fear, every unshed tear—it’s all still in there.

And sometimes, the body becomes the battleground for emotions we’ve learned not to feel.

This is what Dr. John Sarno called Tension Myoneural Syndrome (TMS). What newer research calls neuroplastic pain. What I call: a nervous system trying to protect you the only way it knows how.

Still with me?

Let’s make it concrete.

Robert’s pain didn’t begin during the long illness that forced his father into retirement. It began right after his father handed him the keys to the family business.

Valentina’s pain didn’t show up while training for marathons. It flared the moment she sat down to rest—right before her overbearing mother came to visit.

Their timing was no accident. And if you track your own pain story… you may notice a pattern too.

“But what about my MRI?”

Here’s the bombshell:

The majority of people over 50 have disc bulges and herniations—with zero pain. And 94% have degenerative disc disease without symptoms.

The “problems” on your scan may be as meaningful as wrinkles on your skin—normal signs of aging, not causes of agony.

Pain needs a story. A reason to stick around.

When you start to question that story—gently, curiously—it starts to loosen its grip.

You Don’t Have to Believe Me

In fact, it’s better if you don’t.

Because the belief that heals isn’t blind. It’s earned.

Just stay curious. Read a healing story. Try the self-test. Watch the short film. And if your pain lightens—even 10%—after nothing has physically changed, then maybe…

You’re not broken.

Maybe your brain is just protecting you.

And maybe you can teach it to stand down.

One Last Thing

I’m not selling magic. I’m not promising miracles.

I’m offering a science-backed, low-risk path that costs less than a dinner out—and has helped thousands.

The method is here. The door is open. And I’ll be right here when you’re ready.

Source:

https://www.ajnr.org/content/36/4/811