Healing Doesn’t Mean Coping Perfectly –

It Means Meeting Yourself Honestly

There are days I feel strong. Then there are days my body shuts down before I can even put a name to what I’m feeling. And when it happens, I still sometimes feel ashamed. Like I should be coping better. Like I’ve failed at being okay.

But I haven’t failed. And neither have you.

The Myth of “Managing Better”

So many survivors feel this pressure to hold it all together. To manage better. To be “stronger by now.” But that shame we carry — it was never ours to begin with. We didn’t ask for the trauma. And we don’t owe anyone perfect healing.

Sometimes triggers take you down. They shake your nervous system. They steal your breath. And it can feel like starting from scratch. But you’re not. You’re just being human — with a nervous system doing its best to protect you.

Triggers Aren’t Weakness — They’re Information

We can’t plan for every emotional hit. Triggers come in sideways. A sound, a face, a message, a memory. One moment you’re fine. The next, your body is on high alert.

This doesn’t make you weak. It makes you responsive. Your body remembers what it’s been through, and it’s trying to keep you safe.

The goal isn’t to avoid being triggered — it’s to know how to care for yourself when it happens.

Your Inner Child Needs You More Than Your Performance Does

I’ve learned that healing doesn’t mean always being okay. It means showing up for the scared parts of yourself — especially the ones that learned to hide.

Sometimes the child in me still doesn’t feel safe. She braces, shuts down, withdraws. But I don’t shut her out anymore. I’ve started to meet her with presence. And it’s that presence — not perfection — that’s helping me heal.

“When I was spiralling, I wasn’t failing. I was scared. And scared doesn’t need fixing. It needs safety.”

Facing Pain — On Your Timeline

You don’t need to dive into your pain before you’re ready. You don’t have to prove your healing by unpacking every memory.

There’s wisdom in waiting. In listening to your body. In knowing when to pause, and when to go deeper.

You don’t need to heal it all at once. You just need to be honest about where you are.

And sometimes that means recognising that when you haven’t truly met yourself, you may make choices that aren’t necessarily the right ones – but felt like what you needed in the moment. That doesn’t make you broken. It makes you human.

“I decided to allow myself to be open, to receive, and to be seen.”

When the time comes to allow yourself to be truly open, it can feel magical – not mythical. So far, it’s been an incredible experience – one I never felt completely safe enough to have. But I’m ready now.

Even though my mind still disassociates from my younger self – a part of me that’s still too raw to open up to – I am meeting myself at a pace I control. I know when to open and when to pull back and rest.

Doing this in relationships is new. But in allowing myself to be met, I’m discovering who I really am. It’s powerful. I’m opening places inside me I’ve never dared to before. And it feels good. Safe.

I also know there will be times I shut down again. But these are the moments I’ve spent years preparing for. I’m not working to hide them. I’m learning to move through them. And every time I do, I get stronger.

There are still many things I don’t share publicly because for me they are still too raw, too painful to say out loud – but still, all these years later, I’m learning to live with them. This doesn’t make me weak. This makes me someone who listens to their own body and allows healing to happen in its own time.

There was a time I thought I needed to remember everything. But really… do I? I know what happened. I may not know all the details, but those missing pieces don’t define who I am. This isn’t a competition about how much we endured – it’s about learning to live with it gracefully. It’s about choosing to live our best lives going forward. To experience the joy around us. And to be loved by the people who truly matter.

Learning to Trust Again

Rebuilding trust – with yourself, your body, and others – is slow work. And that’s okay.

For me, trust came not in the big dramatic moments, but in the quiet ones. Choosing to stay when I wanted to run. Taking a breath before reacting. Letting someone in, even just a little.

It doesn’t happen overnight. But every small moment of self-compassion is a thread that weaves safety back into your life.

If you’re in it right now – the shame, the spiral, the shutdown – please know: this isn’t the end of your story.
You are not failing. You are listening. And that’s healing.

Your job isn’t to manage better. Your job is to be honest with yourself – and respond with kindness.

If this resonated with you…

… I’d love to hear your thoughts – or simply hold space for your story.

Reach out at empowerher@ilja-abbattista.com, or sign up for Truth Notes to stay connected to future reflections, voice notes, and podcast episodes.

You are not alone.