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There’s a beautiful side of healing—the side where you are more self-aware, regulated, have clearer boundaries, and are letting go of things that aren’t serving you anymore.
You feel more connected to yourself, and the outside noises begin to drown.
People begin to see this new version of you and while not everyone may resonate with it, they see it. Some are proud of you and may be a little envious or even curious as to how you got here. They see you on the other side, being a different you.
But there’s another side of healing too—the dark side that no one knows or can even fathom because it’s so deeply subjective, personal, confusing, and exhausting that even you don’t understand! This side where all the healing actually happens is lonely, messy, and can be terrifying. Sometimes you feel like you’re just going round and round in endless loops that simply wouldn’t break, or the moment you think you’ve broken one loop, you’ll find that it has another face and it’s staring right at you with wide eyes waiting for you to acknowledge it.
The word healing sounds pretty, but real healing is far from it. It requires you to reach into the depths of your pain, not once but over and over again, dig parts of you out that you yourself didn’t ever want to look at. Perhaps, you never knew they even existed. And now you have to deal with them.
Those people you see floating on Instagram or anywhere, looking self-assured, successful, making radical choices, they didn’t get there overnight. Those transformations, shifts, took time, gut-wrenching decisions that they didn’t want to take but had to. They had to force themselves to say no when every part of them wanted to slip back into familiarity. They had to face their deep, dark, painful side every day till every bone in their body got exhausted. Yet, they got up and carried on.
“Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” ~ Brené Brown
What no one really tells you about healing is how disorienting it can be. You don’t just wake up one day and feel light and free. Letting go—even of what hurt you—can feel like mourning. It’s not just the person or habit you’re releasing. It’s the dreams, the identity, the version of you that believed in it. You’re not just walking away from something outside of you, you’re parting ways with the inner attachments you clung to in order to feel safe, loved, enough. And that doesn’t always feel empowering at first; it often feels like loss.
Guilt creeps in. Quiet, sneaky, insidious. You wonder if you’re being too much, too sensitive, too selfish for choosing yourself. You question if you’ve abandoned someone or something, even though you know staying would mean abandoning yourself. And then comes the loneliness, the aching silence after setting boundaries, after walking away, after choosing growth over comfort. You miss people who were never truly able to meet you, and that kind of grief is hard to name.
And then there’s the anger, often unexpected, and rarely talked about. The rage that comes when you finally stop blaming yourself for the pain you carried for years. The fury when you realize how long you kept quiet, stayed small, and tolerated mistreatment, because no one ever taught you that you were allowed to do otherwise. That anger is sacred. It’s not a failure. It’s your inner protector finally finding a voice. It’s your truth burning through shame.
Healing is not linear. It’s curvy, spiral, annoying, and irritating in so many ways! You feel like you’re falling apart more than you’re putting yourself together and that too in different ways. You keep wondering, “Didn’t I resolve this already? Why is it happening again!?” Well, because core patterns, beliefs, and that too at the level of identity, just don’t go. They fade away slowly, gently, and everyone’s journey is different. The time they take is different. You can’t force it, only allow it.
“Healing may not be so much about getting better, as about letting go of everything that isn’t you—all of the expectations, all of the beliefs—and becoming who you are.” ~ Rachel Naomi Remen
You will meet the same patterns again and again, but they’ll show up differently. A new person, a slightly different situation, a familiar trigger you didn’t expect. It’s not failure. It’s refinement. Every time you say no when you used to say yes, every time you stay present instead of running, that’s growth. That’s you becoming someone who chooses differently. The pattern may still exist, but you are changing.
Here are a few things to keep in mind no matter where you are in your healing journey. Little reminders that we all need from time to time:
1. Just because it hurts doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.
The ache, the heaviness, the tears that come out of nowhere—that’s not failure. That’s release. That’s old energy leaving your body. Healing often feels worse before it feels better because you’re no longer suppressing things. You’re feeling them. And that’s brave.
2. You’re allowed to be tired.
This kind of inner work is not for the fainthearted. It demands so much of your mind, body, and soul. So, yes, you’ll feel exhausted. Yes, you’ll want to give up. That doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re human. Take breaks. Pause. Sleep. Cry. Rest is part of the process, not an interruption of it.
3. Some people won’t understand your journey, and that’s okay.
You might outgrow conversations, dynamics, even relationships. Not because you’re better than anyone, but because you’re different now. You see differently. Feel differently. And not everyone is meant to walk with you in every phase of your life. Let them go with love. Make space for those who feel safe for the version of you that you’re becoming. In fact, you may also not understand your own journey or where you are at a given point, and that’s okay. Just be patient with your own unfolding.
4. Triggers are invitations, not setbacks.
When something or someone pokes at a deep emotion in you, it doesn’t mean you’ve “gone backwards.” It’s a portal—an entry point into something that still needs attention. That awareness itself is progress. You’re not stuck. You’re simply being asked to look deeper.
5. You don’t need to heal everything all at once.
You’re not a project to be fixed. You’re a person to be held, especially by yourself. Some wounds will soften with time. Some may stay with you like faded scars, reminding you of who you were. Let that be okay. Healing isn’t a race. Pace yourself. Some things can wait.
6. Celebrate the invisible shifts.
The pause before reacting. The ability to name your emotion. The moment you spoke your truth even with shaky hands. The fact that you chose peace over drama. These may seem small, but they’re huge. That’s the real transformation. It’s often quiet and deeply internal.
7. You’re still healing even when you’re laughing.
Joy and healing can coexist. You don’t have to be deep and intense all the time to be considered “doing the work.” Lightness is allowed. In fact, it’s necessary. Let yourself dance, play, connect, even when things aren’t perfect.
8. You will meet yourself over and over again.
Every new version of you will ask for deeper truth, clarity, and alignment. Don’t fear this evolution. Embrace it. You’re allowed to change your mind. You’re allowed to shift your boundaries. You’re allowed to keep becoming.
9. There’s no final destination.
Healing doesn’t end with one retreat, one journal prompt, one breakthrough. It unfolds in layers, in seasons. The goal isn’t perfection. It’s presence. It’s integrity. It’s becoming more and more of who you really are beneath the noise and conditioning.
10. You’re not alone, even when it feels like it.
So many people are walking through their own version of this. Quietly. Invisibly. Behind closed doors. You’re not the only one who feels lost, tired, unsure, or overwhelmed. The fact that you’re showing up for yourself in any capacity is something to be proud of.
11. The same pattern will revisit you but in new clothes.
Just when you think you’ve outgrown something, it may show up again—not to punish you, but to deepen your clarity. A familiar feeling, a similar situation, a different person with the same emotional imprint. It’s not failure. It’s refinement. Healing happens in spirals, not straight lines. Each time you meet the pattern again, you do so with more awareness, more strength, more choice. That’s growth—not because the pattern disappeared, but because you show up differently now.
So wherever you are—in the high, the heartbreak, the silence, or the spiral—know that you are not behind. You’re not too slow. You’re not broken. You are exactly where you need to be.
Healing is hard. It’s humbling. It breaks you open and remakes you slowly.
But one day, you’ll look back and realise: you didn’t just survive—you grew roots, you grew wings, you grew into yourself.
And that is no small thing.
You’re doing better than you think.
Keep going gently.
“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” ~ Rumi
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