Let’s cut through the fluff: healing isn’t a straight line. You’ve probably heard that before, but what people don’t always say is that healing also isn’t always inspiring, transformative, or even particularly interesting.

Sometimes, it’s just boring.

It’s waking up and doing the same small thing you did yesterday. It’s showing up to therapy when you don’t feel like anything dramatic is happening. It’s choosing not to react in the same old way—and no one claps for you because they don’t even notice. But you notice. And that’s what counts.

The Myth of Constant Progress

Social media loves a good before-and-after. In real life, the space between “before” and “after” is usually a whole lot of awkward middle.

You might go weeks feeling great, thinking, This is it—I’m finally getting better. Then out of nowhere, old triggers hit. You spiral. You react. You start questioning everything:
Why am I back here? I thought I was past this.

You’re not back at the beginning. You’re just in the messy middle. Again. That’s not failure. That’s part of the process.

The “Plateau” Nobody Talks About

One of the most disorienting parts of healing is the plateau stage—when you’re no longer in crisis, but not exactly thriving either. You’re managing. Coping. Moving through your days. It’s stable, but it’s not exciting. And that can feel weirdly empty.

This is where many people fall off. Not because they’re doing badly, but because nothing feels like it’s happening. We’re conditioned to associate healing with breakthrough moments, but most of the time it looks like this:

  • Going to bed on time

  • Canceling a toxic plan

  • Naming a feeling without judging it

  • Catching a negative thought before it spirals

  • Texting your therapist instead of your ex

It’s not glamorous, but it’s growth.

Relapse ≠ Regression

Setbacks happen. You cry in the car again. You dissociate at work. You lose it with someone you care about. Then the shame sets in: I thought I was over this.

But the truth? Reacting differently after the setback is progress. Taking responsibility without self-hate is progress. Not running from the discomfort—that’s major progress.

Healing doesn’t mean you’ll never fall down again. It means you’re learning how to get back up in new ways.

The Real Wins Are Subtle

Sometimes growth isn’t a glow-up. It’s setting your alarm because your meds work best at the same time every day. It’s getting a little better at sitting with uncertainty. It’s not spiraling when plans change. It’s quiet, often invisible—but it matters.

You might not feel like you’re making progress, but ask yourself this:

  • What are you tolerating better than you used to?

  • What did you handle this week that would’ve wrecked you last year?

  • What’s one thing you’ve stopped apologizing for?

That’s your evidence. That’s your data. That’s your healing.

Final Thought: You’re Not Doing It Wrong

If healing doesn’t feel poetic or powerful right now, that’s okay. It doesn’t have to. It just has to be real. Keep showing up, even when the process feels unimpressive.

You’re not behind. You’re just in the middle. And that’s where most of the work—and the quiet strength—lives.