Stop Telling Yourself You Should Be Over It by Now

 
Healing has never followed a straight line — so why are we so quick to shame ourselves when it lingers? Some wounds take longer to close than others. You try to move on. You distract yourself. You keep busy. And for a while, it works — until something triggers a memory, a feeling, a version of you that still lives quietly in your body. Suddenly, the ache is back. And with it comes a wave of self-blame: Why is this still affecting me? I should be over it by now.

But healing doesn’t work on a schedule. There is no deadline for grief. No expiration date on hurt. And just because time has passed doesn’t mean your nervous system has fully exhaled. Sometimes, the pain you feel now isn’t weakness — it’s your body finally feeling safe enough to process what it couldn’t before. This post is your permission to stop rushing your healing. You don’t need to fix it. You don’t need to hide it. You just need to honor the fact that you’re still here — still feeling, still trying, still soft enough to care.

Just because it’s old doesn’t mean it’s gone

We often assume that if something happened a long time ago, we should be “over it” by now. But trauma — whether it’s emotional, relational, or situational — doesn’t follow the rules of linear time. Your body remembers what your mind tries to forget. And when you’re finally out of survival mode, those memories might surface — not because you’re broken, but because you’re finally safe enough to feel them.

You’re not regressing. You’re remembering. You’re circling back to something your nervous system didn’t have the space to process before. That’s not weakness. That’s healing in motion.

“I should be over it” is a form of emotional self-rejection

When you shame yourself for not being over something, you add another layer of pain. You’re not just feeling grief or confusion or regret — you’re also feeling wrong for feeling it. That inner criticism becomes a wall between you and the softness you actually need.

What you need is compassion. Acknowledgment. Space to feel what’s still living inside you. You don’t have to agree with your emotions to allow them. You don’t have to justify your pain for it to be valid.

Start here:

• It’s okay that this still hurts.

• It makes sense that this is coming up again.

• I don’t need to rush myself just to be acceptable.

That’s not indulgence. That’s emotional safety.

Triggers don’t mean you’ve failed — they mean you’re human

Even after years of growth, something small can bring old feelings to the surface. A scent. A phrase. A certain tone in someone’s voice. These moments don’t mean you’re “back at square one.” They mean your body is reminding you of what it once had to endure.

Your job is not to be untouchable. Your job is to respond differently now. To notice the trigger. To ground yourself. To offer comfort instead of criticism. That is what healing looks like — not the absence of pain, but the presence of care.

There’s no gold star for getting over it quickly

We tend to idolize fast healing. We applaud people who “bounce back,” who “move on,” who “don’t let it affect them.” But healing isn’t a race — and moving on too quickly can sometimes mean skipping over the very emotions that need to be felt.

Real growth happens when you let yourself linger. When you stay with your feelings long enough to understand them. When you sit with your own discomfort instead of trying to escape it. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you honest.

You don’t need to be impressive. You just need to be real.

You’re not meant to be untouched by life — you’re meant to be changed by it

The things that shaped you — the people you lost, the moments that hurt, the choices you wish you could undo — they live in you for a reason. Not to hold you back, but to remind you of your capacity to feel, to grow, to transform.

You are allowed to carry softness for your past without staying stuck in it. You are allowed to grieve something even if it happened years ago. You are allowed to be changed by life — gently, permanently, and beautifully.

Being “over it” isn’t the goal. Being at peace with yourself is.

You don’t have to rush what takes time

There is no deadline for healing. No checkbox for closure. No timeline that determines when you’re finally okay. And the longer you pressure yourself to “be over it,” the harder it becomes to actually move through it.

So here’s your reframe: You’re not behind. You’re still healing.

That is enough.

That is brave.

That is forward movement.

You don’t need to be done healing to deserve peace today. You just need to offer yourself the gentleness you’ve been waiting for someone else to give you.