

Recovery… whew. It’s quieter than healing, but it’s just as real.
Healing is loud - the tears, the realizations, the “oh wow… THAT’S why I tolerated that.”
But recovery?
Recovery is the part where you start choosing differently… even when the feelings haven’t fully caught up yet.
I'm thinking of one night.
I was lying in bed, restless, and out of nowhere, I got the urge to send a Merry Christmas message to someone I absolutely did not need to reopen the door for. I even had my little reasons lined up like a lawyer: “It’s harmless… It’s the holidays… It’s just kindness.”
But I caught myself.
I literally paused mid-thought and said, “Girl… no.”
And I didn’t send it.
Then that same night, I got up and wrote a Dear John letter - a whole moment - and still didn’t send that either. And instead of feeling silly, I realized something: this is what recovery looks like for me right now.
Not perfection.
Not pretending.
Just that tiny gap between impulse and action… and choosing peace.
I’m not going to lie - the loneliness still taps me on the shoulder sometimes. It’s human. But loneliness isn’t a reason to go backwards. It’s just a reminder of the space that’s opening for something real.
Recovery feels like that: small, honest choices that slowly bring me back to myself. Some days it’s steady. Some days it’s messy. Some days the memories pop up out of nowhere.
But every time I pause… every time I don’t chase… every time I choose me instead of an old pattern… it’s a win. If you’re in your own recovery season, don’t measure it by how “strong” you feel. Measure it by those tiny moments you stay true to yourself. That’s recovery. And it counts.
