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It’s day three of the new year, and I’m already exhausted from the well-meaning but infuriating advice people keep throwing my way about how to heal. 

Today is definitely one of those days where the weight of unsolicited advice presses too hard on my already bruised heart. Yes, healing is an ongoing journey, and I know the clichés about lessons and growth. I’ve heard them, lived them, and even taught myself to cling to them during the darkest moments.

But what people fail to see is that trauma isn’t linear. It revisits like an uninvited guest, ripping open scars you’ve worked tirelessly to heal. Telling me to focus on the lesson while I'm drowning in the hurt feels dismissive of my reality.

I’ve spent more than half my life in therapy. I know what it takes to claw my way back when I get knocked off track. I don’t need reminders about “focusing on growth” as though I’m not already doing everything in my power just to stay afloat.

I understand their intentions. They want to help. But sometimes, I need space to rage, to mourn, to just feel. Healing doesn’t mean I have to smile through every setback or pretend the pain isn’t there. Growth is messy, it’s painful, and it’s not a straight path.

So today, I allow myself this space to rant, to say, “I know what I’m doing, and I need you to trust that I’m handling it in my own way.” Healing doesn’t always look like progress, but I’m still here, still fighting, and that’s enough.

🫰🫂🫖