I used to think healing had to be loud. That it had to look like vision boards, 5 a.m. workouts, green juice, and perfectly curated routines. That if I wasn’t “doing the work” loudly and visibly, I wasn’t really healing. But honestly? That shit got exhausting. Healing felt more like a performance than a process. So I stopped chasing the image of healing and started slowing down to actually feel it.
And that’s when everything changed.
These days, I romanticize my healing. I treat it like a quiet love story. The kind you don’t have to post about. The kind that happens in the smallest, softest moments—coffee made just the way I like it, long walks without a destination, choosing silence over explaining myself to people who still wouldn’t get it.
Slow living isn’t laziness. It’s clarity.
I used to be so caught up in the chaos—overthinking, overdoing, overgiving. My mind was constantly running, and so was my nervous system. I thought I had to hustle my way to peace. But healing doesn’t come in a rush. It shows up in the space you make between obligations. It meets you in the pause.
So here’s what I’ve learned while rewriting the story of my healing—at my pace, on my terms.
1. Create romantic rituals out of the mundane
Lighting a candle before bed. Playing music while cleaning. Pouring a drink into a real glass, not the plastic one from the back of the cupboard. These things may not heal your childhood trauma, but they remind you that you are worthy of tenderness—even in the ordinary.
When you treat yourself like someone worth slowing down for, you begin to believe it.
2. Say no without the need for an essay
Boundaries used to feel like confrontation. Like I had to explain myself to be understood. Now, I just say no. Kindly. Clearly. Without guilt.
Because here’s the truth: if saying no costs you a relationship, that relationship was built on your compliance, not your connection.
3. Let boredom be part of the process
Healing is not always aesthetically pleasing. Sometimes it’s doing nothing and feeling everything. It’s sitting in silence with your thoughts and not numbing them with another scroll session.
You don’t have to fill every moment. Sometimes the most radical act is letting yourself be bored, so your spirit can finally catch its breath.
4. Make peace with being misunderstood
This one hurts. Especially when it comes from people you love. But part of slow living is releasing the need to constantly defend your growth. You don’t have to shrink back into who you were just to make others comfortable.
Some people will never understand your healing. And that’s okay. You’re not healing for them.
5. Move your body like it’s your home, not a punishment
I no longer work out to change myself—I move to reconnect. Stretching before bed, dancing in the kitchen, yoga on the floor while my kids play. My body isn’t a project. It’s the place I live.
And I want it to feel like home.
Romanticizing your healing doesn’t mean pretending everything’s perfect. It means finding softness in your story. It means saying, “I’m still figuring it out, but I’m going to make it beautiful anyway.”
Healing doesn’t need to look impressive to be real. It just needs to feel like you.
So slow down. Light the candle. Take the long way home. Be as gentle with yourself as you are with the people you love.
Because your peace? It’s not found in the finish line. It’s right here. In this moment. In the choice to love yourself out loud—even if no one’s watching.
