The Truth About Healing: An Honest Reflection on the Journey
The Truth About Healing: An Honest Reflection on the Journey
There’s a version of healing that gets shared a lot — the one where everything looks soft and poetic, where self-care is a bath and a deep breath, and growth happens quietly and gracefully.
But that’s not the whole truth.
The truth is, healing can be brutal.
It can split you open in places you didn’t even know you were guarding.
It asks you to sit with what you’ve been running from.
It asks you to unlearn what you were taught to believe about yourself.
And it rarely happens on a timeline that makes sense.
Some days it looks like strength.
Other days it looks like staying in bed because facing the world feels too heavy.
It’s crying without knowing exactly why.
It’s answering your own questions in the dark.
It’s watching people misunderstand you and choosing not to fight for their version of you.
Healing, for me, has meant walking away from things I once begged to stay.
It’s meant looking at parts of myself I didn’t want to name.
It’s meant admitting that I was not okay — and learning that I don’t have to be okay to be worthy.
There are moments of light, yes.
Moments where I feel proud, grounded, at peace.
But there are also moments where I still feel grief in my chest and silence in my throat.
Moments where I wish things had been different.
Moments where I still feel afraid — and choose to show up anyway.
This is the truth about healing:
It doesn’t always feel like progress.
It often feels like standing still, or going in circles, or starting over.
But something shifts, quietly.
Your voice gets stronger.
Your boundaries get firmer.
Your self-trust gets louder.
And then one day, you notice the space between the pain.
The lightness where the heaviness used to live.
The way your body feels safe with you now.
The way you hold your own hand instead of reaching for someone who doesn’t.
Healing is not a destination.
It’s not a point you arrive at.
It’s a choice you make every single day — to stay with yourself.
To believe you are worth loving.
To keep going, even when no one sees how hard you’re trying.
This is where I am now.
Not finished. Not perfect.
But honest.
And still walking.
With love,
Sophie