Healing Doesn’t Always Look Like Progress

Healing is frequently confused with steady onward progress—like when you begin, you're supposed to progress steadily day by day. But actual healing? It's not like that. It's sporadic, unpredictable, and sometimes it seems like nothing is occurring whatsoever.

And that can be infuriating—particularly when you're functioning so diligently to "heal."

You may be coming to therapy, writing, meditating, establishing boundaries… and waking up one morning still feeling like you're drowning. Like all of the work you've done evaporated overnight.

But the thing is: healing doesn't always resemble progress.

Sometimes Healing Looks Like.

Slept a lot more than normal because your brain is exhausted from holding so much.

Bawling randomly over something small, because your body is finally releasing things you buried years ago.

Stepping back from others to find yourself again.

Sitting in quiet, not because you don't have anything to say, but because you're learning to hear from within.

None of that is glamorous. You won't see it in a highlight reel. But it's healing, as well.

Progress Isn't Always Visible

Just because you can't see your progress, does not mean it is not occurring.

Sometimes it's internal. Quiet. Subtle.

It's the space before reacting.

The breath you take before going into a spin.

The manner in which you decide to walk away rather than prove a point.

The fact that you're more woke now than you were before.

Those are all indications of growth—even if nobody else realizes it.

You're Doing Better Than You Think

You're not failing because you're not where you thought you'd be. You're not doing it wrong because you still feel pain. Healing is multi-layered. It washes over you in waves. And sometimes, standing still is the most courageous thing you can do.

Part of healing is resting. Part of healing is falling apart. Part of healing is starting all over again.

So be patient with yourself. The journey isn’t always a glow-up—it’s often quiet, raw, and unpretty. But it’s real. And that’s what matters most.

You’re still healing—even when it doesn’t feel like it.

You’re still growing—even when it looks like standing still.

And that’s enough.