Healing takes time
You are not behind. There is no finish line.
It isn't necessarily something we want to hear. And even when we think we understand it, I'm not sure we always really do.
We live in a world where almost everything is pitched to us as though there is a quicker way. Social media is full of techniques, practices, programmes and people telling us that if we just do this thing, or follow that method, we can get somewhere quickly.
And sometimes we can.
If we are lucky, or something aligns in just the right way, we may have a spontaneous awakening. Something shifts. Something opens. Something that has felt stuck suddenly moves.
These experiences are real. But they aren't necessarily how healing unfolds for most of us.
The promise of the quick fix
We are constantly sold the idea that healing can be quick.
That if we are good enough, committed enough, consistent enough, dedicated enough, we will eventually get there.
And underneath that can be a very subtle message: if you're not better yet, perhaps you're not doing it properly.
Maybe you need another technique.
Another course.
Another retreat.
Another breakthrough.
Another thing to fix.
But for many of us, healing simply doesn't work like that
.
I've been on my own healing journey for over 20 years, and I expect I'll be on it for the rest of my life.
That doesn't mean I'm constantly engaged in intense healing work. I don't spend every day excavating my past or trying to fix myself.
It means that healing and integration never really stop.
There are times when healing is at the forefront of my life, and times when it sits quietly in the background while I simply live.
Of course we want it to be over
And really, why wouldn't we want a quick fix?
Of course we want to get away from trauma and pain.
Of course we want to believe that if we just do this thing or that thing, we will finally feel better.
Of course we want to believe there is a way through that gets us to the other side.
And sometimes there is another fantasy attached to this too: that if we just dive headfirst into our trauma and tough it out, we will emerge transformed.
We will walk through the baptism of fire, battered and bruised but somehow glorious on the other side.
It was incredibly hard, but I made it.
There can be something very seductive about this idea.
But healing isn't necessarily like that.
The ling and winding road
For many of us, the journey is long and winding.
It can be boring.
It can be messy.
It can be ugly.
We walk forwards and then we walk backwards.
We think we've dealt with something, only to find ourselves meeting it again in a different form years later.
There are periods of enormous growth, and periods where it feels like nothing much is happening at all.
It is deeply unglamorous.
There isn't always a breakthrough.
There isn't always a profound realisation.
There certainly isn't always a fanfare.
And perhaps this is one of the hardest things to accept: there may not be an end point.
There isn't really an end
I've come to think of healing less as something we complete and more as something we continue to integrate throughout our lives.
The hope isn't that we will never be triggered again, never struggle again, or never experience pain.
Perhaps what changes is our relationship to those experiences.
We develop greater emotional resilience.
We become more able to recognise what is happening within us.
We may be less easily pulled into old patterns.
We may recover more quickly when we are triggered.
We have a little more space between what happens and how we respond.
And actually, this can feel like a strangely uneventful ending for something that has required so much work.
There may be no moment where we suddenly realise:
That's it. I'm healed.
Instead, one day we might notice that something that once would have completely overwhelmed us doesn't anymore.
We respond differently.
We have more choice.
We come back to ourselves more quickly.
And perhaps we don't even notice when it happens.
So if you've been doing this for a while
Don't worry if you've been on this journey for a while.
Don't worry if you thought you would have got further by now.
Don't worry if you still have difficult days.
Don't worry if you sometimes feel like you're going backwards.
Healing is not a race, and there isn't a finish line waiting for you.
It can be long.
It can be difficult.
It can be deeply humbling.
And sometimes it can feel like very hard work for very little visible reward.
But slowly, quietly, something does change.
There is more space.
More choice.
More capacity.
More of you available to live your life.
And perhaps that is enough.
So, if you've been doing this for a long time, join the club.
You're probably doing better than you think.
About Tarah
I'm a trauma-informed, somatic therapist supporting people to heal and integrate trauma, reconnect with their body and live with greater ease and authenticity
