06/10/2026
True healing
doesn’t show up in a bottle
or in the glow of a crystal
you whispered your grief to once.
It won’t be found in your morning routine,
in apps that promise better thoughts,
or checklists that pretend
you can schedule your soul’s return.
No
healing has dirt under its fingernails.
It lives in the rooms you’ve locked
and the letters you never sent.
It sits heavy
in the silence after your name
wasn’t said right
again.
It’s the lump in your throat
you’ve swallowed for years.
It’s the sob
that’s been waiting
its whole life
to be ugly and loud and holy.
Healing isn’t tidy.
It doesn’t care for polite.
It arrives as a storm
in your chest.
Tears. Rage. A long stare into the mirror
when you finally say
what the f**k happened?
It asks you to dig.
To hold the truth
without dressing it up.
To let the ghosts speak.
To forgive the ones
who couldn’t love you better.
To forgive yourself
for hurting others
and for all the ways
you tried to disappear
just to be loved.
Because healing.
Real healing.
Is daring to face your wounds.
Enduring the pain,
over and over again,
until it has nothing left to teach you.
—Tara Isis Gerris
Leadership Magic for Woment
Tel: 07885 400854
Email: [email protected]
