03/30/2026
There’s a version of this story where I wrap it up neatly and tell you that I moved through it and came out stronger.
That’s not this version.
I’m still living with the impact of what happened last year. In my body, in my thoughts, in the way I sometimes move through the world with more guard up than I used to. This isn’t something I “worked through” once. It’s something I have to keep tending to, over and over again.
And I’m good at this work. I support other people through this every day.
And still … this is hard.
What I don’t think we talk about enough is how much effort it actually takes to heal in a world that rewards you for pretending you’re fine. A world that would rather you stay palatable than tell the truth about what you’ve been through. A world that subtly (and not so subtly) asks you to centre other people’s comfort over your own need to process something unbearable.
I’m honestly pi**ed off about that.
Because trauma doesn’t neatly resolve. Healing isn’t linear or pretty. It’s confronting, repetitive, and at times, exhausting. It asks you to feel things most people spend their lives avoiding.
And it asks you to go against everything you were taught about being “the strong one.”
So yes, there’s a kind of quiet defiance in how I move through this now. In letting things be real. In not minimizing the impact. In choosing honesty over comfort - mine and other people’s.
If you’re carrying something heavy, whether it’s recent or something you’ve held for years, I want you to know this:
You’re not doing it wrong because it’s still hard. You’re not weak for feeling the weight of it.
You were never meant to carry this much on your own.
❤️Marta