What Healing Looks Like Now

Healing used to feel like a destination.

I imagined a version of myself who was finally “over it”—untriggered, unbothered, light. I thought one day I’d wake up free of the past, like it had been neatly filed away and could no longer touch me.

That hasn’t been my experience.

Healing now looks quieter. Less dramatic. More ordinary.

It looks like noticing when my body tenses and choosing to breathe instead of pushing through. It looks like recognizing a familiar reaction and pausing long enough to decide how I want to respond. It looks like having a hard day and not turning it into a story about failure.

Healing looks like integration.

The past still exists, but it doesn’t run the show the way it once did. It shows up as information rather than a command. Memory instead of mandate.

Some days, healing looks like strength. Other days, it looks like grief. Some days, it looks like laughter that surprises me. Other days, it looks like rest—real rest, without justification.

I still have limits. I still have moments where something old gets activated. The difference now is that I don’t make those moments mean I’m broken.

Healing is no longer about fixing myself.It’s about relating to myself differently.

It’s about trust—built slowly, imperfectly, over time. Trust that I will listen. Trust that I will respond. Trust that even when I stumble, I won’t abandon myself.

This version of healing doesn’t make for a dramatic before-and-after. It doesn’t fit neatly into sound bites. But it’s real. It’s sustainable. And it’s mine.

If you’re somewhere in the middle—no longer in crisis, not quite at ease—you’re not doing it wrong. You’re living in the in-between. And that space deserves just as much care.

CTA: Unbroken: Life Outside the Lines holds space for the messy, nonlinear reality of healing—and the humanity that persists through it all. You can find the book at all major book retailers beginning March 17, 2026.