What I Thought Healing Would Feel Like (vs. What It Actually Does)

I used to think healing would feel like some kind of arrival. Like one day I’d wake up calm and clear, glowing with wisdom, totally unbothered by my past. Like I’d be done with my trauma neatly tucked away, no longer hurting in the present. I thought I’d feel light. Free. Effortlessly okay. Like everything was right and okay in the world.

But that’s not what healing felt like.

What it actually felt like?

It felt like falling apart on purpose. Like dragging old wounds into the light and cringing at how deep they still went. It felt like crying over things I hadn’t let myself cry about in years or ever. Like realizing I didn’t know what I liked, what I wanted, or who I even was outside of survival mode. It felt like realizing I was hurt over things I had no idea had even hurt me.

Healing felt like grief. Like mourning the childhood I didn’t get, the safety I never had, the version of me that didn’t get a chance to exist. It felt like frustration because progress was slow, because triggers still triggered me, because I kept waiting for that “healed” version of me to show up and rescue the messy one. It felt like me wanting to give up because I felt like it was going nowhere. What was the point?

Sometimes, healing felt boring. Sometimes, it felt terrifying. Sometimes, it felt like nothing was happening at all until I looked back and saw how much had quietly changed.

Here’s the truth I wish someone had told me sooner Healing doesn’t always feel good. Sometimes it feels like doubt. Sometimes it feels like standing still. Sometimes it feels like sitting in pain you used to numb or outrun. But that is healing. Feeling the feelings. Letting things surface. Learning new ways to respond. Choosing not to self-destruct. Choosing to rest. Choosing to stay.

Now, healing feels like deeper breaths. Like responding instead of reacting. Like catching myself spiraling and whispering, “Hey, you’re safe now.” Like holding space for my past self without letting her take the wheel.

And I’m still practicing. Every day. I still have set backs. I just know how to handle them better.

If healing doesn’t look or feel the way you thought it would it's important to know that you're not doing it wrong. It's just real.

And that kind of healing? It’s messy, slow, imperfect…but it's real.

It's yours. And you're going to make it.