Healing is crying at 2 a.m. because a memory snuck up on you. It’s replaying everything in your head wondering how things went so wrong. It’s trying to convince yourself that you’re stronger than the pain that’s been living inside you for too long. It’s sitting in silence and feeling everything you’ve been running from.
Some days I swear it feels like I’m taking one step forward and ten steps back. Some days I think I’ve moved on, then out of nowhere, a smell, a song, or a flash of a memory hits me, and I’m right back in that moment — raw and aching all over again. That’s the part people don’t talk about enough. The back-and-forth. The way healing doesn’t happen in a straight line.
But even through all the chaos and tears, I’m learning that healing is worth it. Because with every breakdown comes a breakthrough. With every painful realization comes a new piece of truth that sets me free. Every time I face the pain instead of running from it, I feel myself getting lighter — even if just a little bit.
Somewhere in the mess, I can feel a new version of me starting to rise. One who isn’t defined by what broke her. One who can finally look at her scars and see strength instead of shame. One who’s not afraid to say, “Yeah, I’ve been through hell… but I’m still standing.”
I’m not healed yet — not completely. Maybe I never will be, and that’s okay. Healing isn’t about pretending the pain never happened. It’s about learning to live with it, to grow through it, and to not let it control you anymore.
So no, healing ain’t pretty. It’s messy, emotional, and exhausting. But it’s real. And real is where the beauty lives. Because no matter how long it takes, I know I’m worth the work. I deserve peace. I deserve happiness. I deserve a life that feels good to wake up to — even if it takes me a little longer to get there.
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