It was never about healing harder
I used to believe that if I healed hard enough — cried all the tears, journaled through every ache, did every ritual — I’d come out the other side with a boyfriend, a thriving business, and a million in my bank account.
That would be the proof, right? That I’d finally done enough.
But healing isn’t the reward.
Becoming is.
💔 The Healing Trap No One Talks About
We’re often told “time heals all wounds,” but what you do with that time is what actually matters.
If you spend it pointing fingers and letting the days pass while waiting for someone else to fix it — not much changes. And sometimes that’s the season you’re in. That’s okay.
But you can also use that time to reflect.
You can gently ask:
“Was there a 1% part of me that ignored a red flag? Was this trigger a mirror of an old version of me still asking to be seen?”
So many of us cling to quotes like “the next guy better love me hard enough to put all the broken pieces back together…”
But here’s the thing: you’re the one who gets to gather those pieces. You decide how they fit back together. You choose the shape of your new self.
Because if you wait for someone else to do it, you’re still handing over your happiness like it’s not yours to hold.
And we’re not doing that anymore.
🔄 The Part I Was Skipping: Integration
After every heartbreak, every growth spurt, every dark night of the soul — I would look around and think, “Why hasn’t everything I want shown up yet? Did I not go deep enough?”
So I’d pull out my journal again.
I’d go back into the shadows.
I thought if I worked harder, healed faster, cleared more wounds… then I’d be rewarded.
But here’s what I’ve realized:
✨ The reward is knowing you were worthy the whole time. ✨
It’s the moment you respect yourself so deeply that settling sounds miserable.
It’s the joy of your own company.
It’s the way solitude becomes peace, not punishment.
And singlehood becomes a choice, not a test of strength.
After years of trying to fix myself, I forgot to live as the woman I had become.
I never gave myself time to integrate.
To anchor it.
To walk around in this new skin and say:
“This is who I am now.”
No wonder I was tired.
My body was just trying to catch up to my soul.
🪞Becoming Isn’t a Destination — It’s a Way of Walking
Now?
Now I’m letting myself live.
I wear the shorts.
I enjoy my rituals.
I flirt a little.
I drink coffee slowly and let the light hit my face.
I give myself the love I always thought had to come from someone else.
There’s nothing more magical than becoming a woman who chooses herself — over and over again.
🌀 If You’re in That In-Between…
The space between healing and becoming can feel strange.
Like you’re standing in the doorway of the life you want, wondering why it hasn’t let you in yet.
But maybe… the door has opened.
Maybe the only thing left is for you to walk through it.
Take the healed version of you and live as her.
The journal will still be there when you need it.
But maybe — just for today — you close it and let yourself dance instead.
Coffee cheers,
Nadia