Healing Doesn’t Always Feel Good
Sometimes it sucks—and that’s part of the process.
The Lie That Healing Should Feel Good
Let’s get something straight:
Healing is not a candlelit bath with rose petals and a flute playlist.
It’s not always soft, or graceful, or aesthetically pleasing.
There’s this idea floating around—usually wrapped in pastel graphics with words like “glow-up” and “energy shift”—that healing feels good.
That if you’re crying, spiraling, or annoyed at the world, you’re somehow doing it wrong.
Yeah… no.
Sometimes healing feels like screaming into a pillow and then cleaning the kitchen just so you don’t lose it completely.
It feels like staring at the ceiling thinking, “Am I actually getting better or just better at pretending I’m okay?”
Let’s be clear: healing is not cute.
It’s not a vibe. It’s work.
Real healing? It’s awkward. It’s uncomfortable.
It’s bringing up stuff you tried really hard to forget.
It’s being tired of your own patterns but not knowing how to break them yet.
It’s progress that feels like failure because it’s not pretty at all.
Some days, it feels like dragging your chaos out of bed just so it can sit with you while you try to function like a semi-decent human.
That’s normal.
Progress doesn’t always feel like it
“I thought I was past this.”
Yeah, same.
You’ll think you’re over something.
You’ll feel fine for weeks.
Then one weird conversation, one random dream, one annoying silence later—and BAM—emotions you thought you were done with come crashing back in.
It doesn’t mean you’re back at zero.
It means you’re still in it.
Still peeling layers. Still unlearning. Still showing up.
And that counts—even if it feels like sh*t.
Why It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better
It’s not supposed to feel good.
This part isn’t talked about enough:
Healing can feel worse before it feels better.
Because at least when you were numbing, you weren’t noticing.
Now you notice everything.
The anger. The sadness. The guilt. The grief. The relapses.
Breakthroughs followed by setbacks.
You’re laughing one minute and spiraling the next.
This is what progress actually looks like.
Dear Inner Chaos
You don’t have to like this part.
You don’t have to smile through it.
You don’t need a spiritual breakthrough every week.
Some days, surviving is the win.
Some days, honesty is the win.
Some days, drinking enough water and not snapping at people is the win.
Whatever today looked like, the important part is—you still showed up.
That’s healing. Even when it doesn’t feel like it.
Need a Place to Process the Messy Middle?
That’s what my journals are created for.
Not for perfect people.
For real ones.
