Making Peace with My Past: Healing Isn’t Linear

I used to think healing meant closure.
That one day, I’d wrap up all my hard stories with a bow and file them neatly away.
That I’d be “over it.”
That I’d move on.

But real healing?
It’s messier. Softer. Slower.
And it doesn’t always arrive the way I thought it would.

The Things I Carry

There are parts of my story I’ve made peace with.
There are parts I’m still untangling.
And there are parts that visit me now and then, not to hurt me — but to remind me how far I’ve come.

Midlife has brought those parts to the surface.

It’s the memories I thought I’d outgrown.
The wounds I thought had fully closed.
The stories I kept quiet to protect others while breaking pieces of myself.

But now?

I no longer want to keep hurting for the sake of being polite.

Healing Isn’t Always Loud

Sometimes, healing looks like crying in the shower on a Wednesday morning.
Sometimes, it’s writing letters you’ll never send.
Sometimes, it’s letting yourself be angry about things you minimized for years.

And other times…
It’s smiling at an old photo without flinching.
It’s no longer needing to explain yourself.
It’s noticing how your voice no longer shakes when you speak your truth.

I’m Not Erasing My Past, I’m Reclaiming It

I don’t want to forget what I’ve walked through.
But I don’t want to carry the shame of it anymore either.

This version of me, the one writing this at 50 knows how to honor the girl I was, even when she was scared, small, and surviving.

She did the best she could.
She got me here.
And that matters.

If You’re Still Healing Too…

Please hear this:

You’re not behind.
You’re not broken.
You’re not failing.

You’re just still healing.
And that healing is still holy, even if it’s quiet, even if it’s not finished.

You don’t owe anyone a tidy ending.
You just owe yourself the gentleness you were always worthy of.

With love,
Brandy