We often hear the phrase, “Time heals all wounds.” It is meant to be comforting, a reassurance that no matter how deep the pain, how heavy the sorrow, time will eventually smooth the rough edges and make things right. But is that really true?
For some, time does bring healing. The rawness of grief fades, memories become softer, and the sting of past betrayals lessens. But for many others, time doesn’t heal—it only numbs.
The wound remains beneath the surface, hidden beneath layers of distractions, responsibilities, and new experiences. The pain may no longer be as sharp, but that doesn’t mean it’s gone.
There is a difference between healing and suppression. True healing involves acknowledging the pain, processing it, and finding a way to move forward in a healthy way. Suppression, on the other hand, is when time simply dulls the pain without resolving it. This is why people can go years—sometimes decades—without realizing they are still carrying the weight of old wounds.
We convince ourselves that if something doesn’t hurt as much anymore, it must mean we are over it.
But in reality, time has only blurred the edges of the pain, not erased it. It sits beneath the surface, sometimes triggered by a scent, a song, a familiar place, or even a random thought.
Another common belief is that time brings clarity—that if we wait long enough, we will understand why things happened the way they did.
While reflection and distance can sometimes offer new perspectives, time alone doesn’t always provide answers. Some wounds remain mysteries, some betrayals never make sense, and some losses will never feel justified.
I didn’t heal because I got closure.
In fact, the more I went looking for closure, the more I realized I was reopening wounds that were already trying to scar over. I was waiting for apologies that would never come… waiting for explanations that wouldn’t change the past…
So I stopped waiting.
I stopped needing answers to heal.
I chose to move on — not because it was easy, but because staying stuck was destroying me.
I turned to books. Books about healing, forgiveness, self-worth, and letting go. I studied the bible and found solace. And in those quiet moments with words written by people who had survived their own pain — I found strength. I found language for my emotions. I found perspective.
One lesson stood out to me the most: Forgiveness is not for them — it’s for me.
Forgiveness is the greatest gift I could give to myself. Not because they deserved it, but because I deserved peace.
Healing is messy.
Some days I felt strong, other days I was triggered all over again.
Some days I cried over things I thought I had let go of.
Some days I doubted if I was making any progress at all.
But here’s what I know for sure — not healing is messier.
Staying angry will drain you.
Holding on to bitterness will keep you stuck.
Waiting for people to right their wrongs may keep you waiting forever.
So I chose me.
I chose to heal — broken, bruised, and imperfect — but free.
And I am still healing.
Every day I give myself grace.
Every day I remind myself that peace is my responsibility.
That’s how I healed… and that’s how I keep healing.
And that’s okay. The goal isn’t always to find answers but to find peace even in the absence of them.
You could try any of these approaches as well…
1. Intentional Healing Work – Healing requires effort. Therapy, journaling, deep conversations, or simply allowing yourself to fully feel and process emotions are all steps toward true healing.
2. Self-Compassion – Sometimes, the hardest person to forgive is ourselves. Whether it’s regret, shame, or unresolved guilt, learning to be gentle with yourself is a crucial part of the process.
3. Community and Support – Healing does not happen in isolation. Sharing your story, seeking help, and allowing others to walk alongside you can make all the difference.
4. Acceptance Over Closure – Not all wounds will close neatly. But accepting that some questions will remain unanswered can be liberating. Peace doesn’t always come from knowing why—sometimes, it comes from choosing to move forward anyway.
Time doesn’t always heal all wounds. But what time does do is give us space—space to choose whether we will confront our pain or let it fade into numbness.
