strange things

As a child, I thought healing meant going back to the way things were before. That wounds disappeared. That pain simply faded. That one day, everything would feel normal again.

Now I know healing is something entirely different.

Healing doesn't always take away what happened. It slowly takes away the power it has over you.

At first, it's the first thing you think about every morning. Then only every night. And one day, you suddenly realize you've lived an entire day without your pain being the center of it. Not because it's gone, but because your life has quietly become bigger than your wound.

Healing is rarely loud.

It doesn't arrive with fireworks or a life-changing moment. It hides in the smallest things. In the first genuine laugh. In a song that no longer hurts. In making plans again. In realizing that hope has found its way back without asking for permission.

And sometimes, healing even feels wrong.

Because we're afraid that if the pain fades, the memories will too. As if healing means letting go of the people we loved or the parts of ourselves that were changed forever. But remembering and healing are not opposites. One preserves, the other sets you free.

Maybe that's the biggest misconception about healing, that it means feeling nothing anymore.

It doesn't.

Healing means being able to feel again without falling apart.

The scars remain. The story remains. But one day, they stop telling your entire life.

And maybe that's what healing truly is.

Not becoming the person you were before.

But becoming someone who, despite everything, still chooses to keep moving forward.