There was a time when reading my own words made me cry.
I would come across fragments of my past—scribbled thoughts scattered across scraps of paper, left strewn around my apartment like pieces of a broken puzzle. These raw, vulnerable pieces of my story held so much weight.
Each word echoed a scream I once didn’t have the strength to voice aloud.
They were proof that I had survived—but I didn’t feel safe yet.
There was a time when even just thinking about those moments would overwhelm me, never mind actually reading them again.
But recently, something shifted.
I found myself drawn back to those scattered words—hidden among the pages of forgotten journals and scraps of paper tucked away out of sight, the ones that used to tear me open…
and I didn’t cry.
Instead, I felt a new sensation—a sense of stillness and calm where there once was only doom and despair.
This feeling is new to me.
To read over words that once made me weep and now feel peace is a milestone I hadn’t imagined reaching so soon.
What Changed?
I did.
I’ve walked with my pain, sat in it, processed it.
I let it wash over me instead of burying it deep.
And slowly, without even realizing, I stopped living in survival mode.
The wounds that once felt so fresh are now integrated into who I am.
They don’t sting anymore.
They remind me.
They remind me of how far I’ve come.
Of what I’ve carried and released.
Of how brave I’ve been—even when I didn’t know it.
The Truth About Healing
Healing doesn’t always come with a bang or a breakthrough.
Sometimes it’s subtle.
Sometimes, it looks like reading a story that once shattered you… and smiling.
Not because it wasn’t real or hard—but because you lived through it.
You felt it, faced it, forgave it, and let it go.
And now, your body and heart are no longer gripped by the past.
This is what healing feels like:
The absence of pain where there used to be a wound.
The ability to remember without reliving.
The freedom to feel joy where there used to be only sorrow.
If You’re Still in the Thick of It
If your old words still make you cry—please know this is not your forever.
Your tears are sacred. Your pain is valid.
And one day, you may find yourself smiling at the same sentences that once broke you.
Not because they don’t matter—but because you’ve grown around them.
Healing doesn’t mean forgetting.
It means no longer bleeding.
And when that moment comes—when the ache becomes an echo—you’ll know:
“I made it through. And I’m still becoming.”
