It’s not a sunrise. It’s a storm, and then a sip of tea.
They don’t tell you that healing feels like losing yourself all over again.
That you’ll question everything — your choices, your worth, your past.
Some days, you’ll glow. Other days, you’ll crawl. And both are healing.
Healing isn’t always graceful.
Sometimes, it’s deleting his number — again.
Sometimes, it’s sobbing on the bathroom floor — again.
Sometimes, it’s laughing — not because everything is okay,
but because you remembered you’re still here.
Healing isn’t like a disease — something to be cured.
Healing is constant. Evolving. Just as we never stay the same.
They say healing is becoming whole in oneself.
But what if we’ve given so much of ourselves to others
that the wholeness we once held has slowly disappeared?
And now, we’re rebuilding that.
Piece by piece. Breath by breath.
If you’re in the thick of it, this is your reminder:
You’re not doing it wrong.
Healing doesn’t look like anyone else’s path —
it looks like yours.
— She ♡
