Healing is beautiful.
It’s peaceful.
It’s soft.
It’s calm.
It’s... also the reason I sometimes have to physically sit on my own hands.
Because real talk — just because I’m healing doesn’t mean I don’t still want to cuss somebody out sometimes. Doesn’t mean I don’t have moments where the only “inner child” I’m nurturing is the one who wants to square up on somebody’s front lawn.
Growth? Yeah, I’m doing it.
Enlightenment? Sure.
Patience? Let’s just say it’s a work in progress.
Nobody tells you that healing doesn’t erase your anger — it teaches you how to carry it differently. It teaches you not to unpack your bags in the middle of the street, fists flying, but to breathe through it like a grown-ass adult who knows better... even when every molecule in your body is ready to turn the table over.
I still get triggered.
I still catch myself fantasizing about saying the thing that would cut them down at the knees.
I still have those moments where “positive vibes only” sounds like a cruel joke taped to the wall of my soul.
The difference is, I don’t act on it.
(Okay, most days.)
Instead, I let it burn a little in my chest.
I let myself clench my jaw, ball my fists under the table, mentally write the 10-page comeback I’ll never send.
I sit with the fire instead of letting it burn down everything I’ve built.
Because here’s the truth:
Healing isn’t about pretending you're above it.
Healing is about choosing not to let that old version of you run the show anymore — even when it would be so damn satisfying to give in for just a second.
And honestly?
Sometimes, “healing” looks like smiling tightly and walking away while your insides are screaming, “I KNOW YOU F*CKING LYING.”
Sometimes, it looks like posting a quote about inner peace while texting your best friend, “Girl, hold my earrings.”
I’m proud of how far I’ve come.
I’m proud that I bite my tongue more than I bite people’s heads off now.
But let’s be real — I’m human before I’m healed.
And some days, being human means you’re just one audacity-filled comment away from writing a strongly worded novel in ALL CAPS.
If you’re on your healing journey too, and you still have days where you want to throw hands?
Congratulations. You’re not broken.
You’re not failing.
You’re just real.
Give yourself grace.
Honor the fire.
And remember:
Just because you don’t throw the hands... doesn’t mean you can’t feel them itching.
Healing is messy sometimes. And that’s okay.
The goal was never to become untouchable — it was to become unstoppable.
And today, I’m still standing.
With both fists down.
Mostly.
