What healing really means

What healing really means: Moving on is one of the hardest things. You can be so sure you’ve finally done it — let go of a place, a person, or just a time in your life. You can go months, even years, without thinking about them, without replaying that memory, without stepping into that place that once held too many moments. And then suddenly, something shifts. A song comes on unexpectedly, and that old ache rises like it had just been waiting for the right time. You hear a sentence or a singular word, and it pulls you right back to when someone used to say it. As you walk past a street, the flashbacks hit you like a truck, transporting you back to the old times.

What’s so strange about moving on is that it’s invisible. There will be no announcements or words that will tell you that you have healed. You find it in the little things, such as you stop checking your phone to see if they texted, you stop waiting to feel those feelings again and you eventually stop talking about it. Some would say that is what moving on is and maybe it is or it’s just you adapting to living in their absence. You might not think about them every day anymore, but a phrase, a familiar voice from someone, or a situation that feels so similar to the past you left behind can undo all that progress in seconds.

Healing is not a linear process. You won’t always make progress — you will have to take three steps backward at times just to move forward. It will hurt more on some days, especially when you recall a happy moment or a conversation you had with them. But gradually, your heart will adapt to bearing that pain, and it will diminish from being intense to more subdued… quieter. It will cause less pain, and the sensation of the lump in your throat will occur less frequently. It won’t do anything; it will simply become something that sits with you, softly, for a long time.

We have to remember: moving on is NOT forgetting. It’s about remembering, cherishing, and holding onto something without letting it make you fall apart. It’s learning to be yourself again. It’s reclaiming back the parts you gave them. It’s about transforming into the best version of yourself, free from the spectre of your past. It’s about looking back and realising the pain didn’t win — you did. So, what is healing? It’s not forgetting, not erasing, not pretending. It’s the quiet triumph of carrying your past without letting it carry you