How to Live Like Your Heart Was Never Touched by Pain

Credit: Enchanted, Disney

Sometimes, all it takes is something small—a song, a video, an article or even a stranger—and suddenly, life tilts.

That’s what happened to me this week. One tiny, blink-and-you-miss-it moment—and I found myself in an energy my younger self lived in so easily, but one my grown-up self had quietly grieved as lost. It’s like craving the ocean while stranded in the desert. Then out of nowhere, you’re standing on sun-warmed sand, waves playfully lapping at your toes. Your body exhales. Your mind hushes. You feel lit from within, like your cells are giggling.

And here’s the curious part: we spend so much time talking about how to heal, why to heal, what needs healing—but almost no one talks about what happens next. What does life look like when we’re healed—or even just tasting a moment of wholeness?

I think it feels like a rom-com. And not just any rom-com—your rom-com. You, as the main character. You, walking through the world like a spell has been lifted and your soundtrack just kicked in.

Isn't that the most magical plot twist?

ACT I: The Meet-Cute (with Myself)

This week, I caught a glimpse of my own real-life rom-com—and as the kids say, I was feeling myself. But more than that, I was flirty, mischievous, and quietly radiant. The kind of mood where your hips move like jazz and your hair has its own gravitational field.

In Persian, we have a word for this: Lavand. There’s no perfect English translation, but imagine a woman who moves like poetry. Feminine, enchanting, alluring—not in the way that’s performative, but in the way that makes flowers turn their heads and strangers give you the kind of look that forest creatures would give Snow White when she would sing for them. That was me. I was walking around like I had personally been blessed by a swarm of butterflies.

This may not sound revolutionary to you. But for someone who writes about trauma most of the time, It was a full cinematic plot twist.

Imagine the scene from Lady and the Tramp—you know the one. Tramp brings Lady to the back alley of an Italian restaurant and his human friends get all excited about this elegant guest. The moment they lay eyes on Lady, she bats her lashes like, “Yes, gentlemen, I am the moment.” That was me. Minus the spaghetti. Plus a conference badge.

ACT II: The Serious Work and the Not-So-Serious Aura

Now, here’s the kicker: Nothing in my life changed this week. Same work schedule. Same responsibilities. In fact, I attended a very serious work conference filled with robots, AI demos, and endless conversations about clean energy transitions. (For context: I work in the climate change sector—helping communities and governments shift to cleaner technologies like electric vehicles and electric heat pumps while trying to make sense of the price tags.)

But despite the spreadsheets, stats, and the slightly-too-cold conference rooms, I carried this aura of play. Like my soul was wearing red lipstick even if my actual face wasn’t.

It made me realize: the opposite of work isn’t rest. It’s play, because when you feel as though the most benevolent force in the world, call it mother nature or the Higher Power dots on you, you can really become giddy.

And the opposite of trauma? It’s not just healing—it’s feeling in love. With yourself. With your life. With the song playing in the background of your Tuesday.

ACT III: The Plot Twist

Here’s the most benevolent part: this whole vibe-shift wasn’t caused by a lover or a makeover or a vacation in Positano. It was caused by a song. One tiny, magical song called “Pretty Little Baby.”

I don’t even remember how I stumbled on it, but when I heard it, something inside me—a sweet, confident, enchanted six-year-old—woke up and started singing. That version of me, the one who exists untouched by trauma, came out to play.

Earlier this week, one of my health care providers said something that struck me:

“I want you to connect with the Kate that has had no trauma.”

At first, I didn’t even know if that was even possible and often I would feel that I just know too much to feel lighter, to a point of almost no return, except that apparently we can return! I danced in my kitchen like I was auditioning for a 1950s musical, and I thought—there she is. Flirty, curious, bold, free, and dare I say... a little dangerous in the best way.

Closing Scene: Cue the Credits

So if you see me walking around with a twinkle in my eye and the posture of someone who just got proposed to by the universe, blame the song. And the inner six-year-old. And maybe a little bit of the Persian word Lavand.

Here’s the song, by the way—Pretty Little Baby.

The makers of this song are not a sponsor of this blog, but they are the official sponsor of my entire enchanted mood this week.

I share it with you in case you need one more little nudge from the universe. To walk through the world like you’ve had no trauma at all and remember, beneath all your layers, there is a pretty little baby, dotted on by the world's most benevolent presence.

And if there is anything that connects you to the version of you that knows no trauma, please share it with me, I would be enchanted to know.

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