What if I'm bad at healing?

Because pretending to be okay is its own kind of exhaustion.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to heal — not the glamorous, cinematic version where you have a life-changing summer and suddenly everything is better, but the real kind. The slow, frustrating kind that makes you feel like you're failing even when you’re trying.

And I think — if I’m being honest — I’m not very good at it.

I don’t mean that in a dramatic, “my life is a mess” kind of way. I mean it in the quiet way. The way where you keep doing all the things you’re supposed to — you show up, you smile, you check in, you say the words — but deep down, nothing really feels fixed. Or even close to it.

Some days, I feel like I’ve gotten better at pretending I’m okay than I have at actually being okay. I say what I’m supposed to say. I give the right answers. I keep conversations light, because I’ve learned that when you get too honest, people get uncomfortable.

And somewhere along the way, I stopped really meaning what I said. Not because I want to lie — I don’t. I just don’t know how to explain that I’m still carrying things I thought I should’ve dropped by now. That even when I look like I’ve moved on, I haven’t. Not really.

And I’ve started wondering: what if I’m just bad at healing?

What if some people are just wired to hold on a little longer? What if my version of getting better doesn’t look clean or simple? What if I never bounce back the way people think I should?

Sometimes it feels like I’m performing myself — like I’ve memorized the script of someone who’s fine, and I’m reciting it well enough to get by. But it’s rehearsed. Detached. I don’t even know when it started, but I miss saying things that I actually mean.

I miss being soft. Open. Unfiltered. But that kind of honesty requires safety, and the truth is, I haven’t felt safe enough to be real in a long time.

Maybe you know that feeling too — when you're in a room full of people and still feel like you’re the only one who hasn’t figured it out yet. When everyone else seems to be moving on, and you’re still trying to find your footing.

If you do — if any of this sounds even a little bit like you — I just want to say you’re not alone.

You’re not wrong for needing more time. You’re not weak because you feel things deeply. And you’re definitely not broken because you haven’t found the right words yet.

We’re not bad at healing.

We’re just human. And sometimes that means taking longer to get where we’re going. That’s okay. You’re okay.

I promise.