Don’t Look Away

We don’t heal what we refuse to see.

Pain doesn’t disappear because we look away. It doesn’t fade into the background, waiting to be forgotten. It’s there, quietly collecting power, waiting for us to face it. The longer we avoid it, the more it shapes us without us even knowing.

Healing doesn’t come by pushing it away, or pretending it’s not there. It’s not about forcing ourselves to look when it feels impossible. It’s about expanding our capacity to sit with it, little by little, until we can stand face-to-face with the hardest parts of ourselves.

We don’t heal what we refuse to see. But we heal when we choose to see it on our terms—when we let ourselves look, not all at once, but in moments we can hold. The pain doesn’t go away, but we get stronger. We build the muscle to be with it without letting it consume us.

Healing isn’t about pretending the hurt doesn’t exist—it’s about growing into the space where we can meet it. We don’t have to conquer it in one go, but we can start. We can begin to look at it, to sit with it, to allow it to move through us instead of around us.

We don’t heal what we refuse to see.

But when we can finally bear witness to what’s been buried, that’s when we begin to shift. Not because we’re fearless, but because we’ve learned how to hold our pain with compassion, without it breaking us down. The power lies in our ability to see it without turning away—and to trust that we can handle it, piece by piece.

We don’t heal what we refuse to see. But we heal when we finally turn toward it, and let it change us.