What Healing Costed Me

Choosing to Heal (Even When It Hurt)

Healing didn’t just give it took

It costed me comfort.
The kind that keeps you safe but stuck. The familiar chaos I knew how to navigate. The coping mechanisms that worked just well enough to keep me from changing.

Healing costed me old identities.
The strong one.
The fixer.
The one who broke silently and called it resilience.
I had to grieve those versions of myself. They kept me alive but they couldn’t come with me into peace.

Healing cost me people.
Some left when I stopped over-explaining.
Some faded when I stopped shrinking.
Some only loved the version of me that needed them.

Letting go hurt but staying would have costed me myself.

Healing also costed me certainty and the illusion that I could change without losing anything.

But what it gave me was deeper:
Self-trust.
Inner safety.
A relationship with myself that feels like home.

Healing takes what isn’t real
so you can finally keep what is.