My Story

The story I choose to share

For much of my life, I didn’t really understand what I was experiencing or why I felt and thought the way I did.

And when you’re already struggling to understand yourself, hearing things that make you feel like you’re the problem doesn’t exactly help.

Over time, I started believing those messages. That maybe I was too sensitive, too emotional, too much, or somehow just not enough.

So I learned to hide the parts of myself I thought other people wouldn’t understand.

And the scary thing about doing that for so long is that eventually, you can lose sight of where the mask ends and you begin.

Looking back now, I’m starting to recognize how much of my life was shaped by those beliefs. The decisions I made, the things I tolerated, the expectations I placed on myself, and how desperately I wanted to feel like I was enough.

Some of what I’m discovering is painful. Some of it is freeing. Some days I feel like I’m finally figuring things out, and other days I wonder what the hell I’m doing.

But for the first time, I’m trying to give myself permission to be a whole person. Not just the version of me who keeps everyone happy, holds everything together, or pretends she’s fine.

When I think about the younger version of myself, I wish someone had told her that she wasn’t doing anything wrong. That struggling didn’t mean there was something wrong with her. That she wasn’t the only person who felt the way she did.

I wish someone had helped her understand that there were other people going through similar things, people who would understand, and resources that could actually help.

Maybe she wouldn’t have spent so many years questioning herself, blaming herself, or feeling like she had to hide the parts of her life that weren’t so pretty.

I can’t go back and give that younger version of myself what she needed.

But I can start giving those things to myself now.

And maybe, by sharing my experiences, I can help someone else feel a little less alone along the way.

That’s the story I’m choosing to share.

Not because I’ve figured it all out.

But because I haven’t.

Why this space exists

Why this space exists

Not That Healed Yet is something I’ve needed for a long time, even if I didn’t realize it.

A place where I can finally show up as myself. Where I don’t have to pretend everything is wonderful, carefully choose which parts of my life are acceptable to share, or wait until I’ve figured everything out before I can talk about it.

I want to talk about the real stuff.

Mental health. Chronic illness. Trauma. Relationships. Motherhood. Personal growth. Spirituality. Rediscovering who I am after spending so much of my life trying to be who I thought I was supposed to be.

And honestly? Sometimes I just want to talk about something funny, share a random thought, or tell you about something that made me question everything I thought I knew.

Because life isn’t just the hard stuff. And neither am I.

I don’t want this to become a place where every conversation revolves around what’s wrong, what hurts, or what needs healing.

I want it to be a place for all of it. The messy moments, the little victories, the uncomfortable realizations, the laughter, the questions, and everything in between.

I’m not here to teach anyone how to have a perfect life. I’m still trying to figure out what an authentic one looks like for me.

But I do believe there’s something powerful about being willing to talk about the things so many of us quietly carry.

And if something I share makes another person feel understood, less ashamed, or simply less alone, that would mean more to me than I can explain.

Most importantly, though, this is a place where I get to be me.

Still learning. Still growing. Still figuring things out.

And very much not that healed yet. 💜

Still becoming

I’m 43 years old, and in a lot of ways, I feel like I’m just beginning to get to know myself.

Not the version of me I’ve spent years trying to be for everyone else. Not the version who smiles, pushes through, and insists everything is fine.

The real me. Whoever she turns out to be.

I’m learning that healing isn’t always about becoming a better version of yourself. Sometimes it’s about unlearning all the things that made you believe you weren’t good enough in the first place.

And I’m discovering that there’s so much more to me than the things I’ve been through or the conditions I’ve been diagnosed with.

I still have dreams. I still have things I want to experience, questions I want to explore, and parts of myself I’m excited to rediscover.

Some days I feel hopeful and inspired. Other days I’m exhausted, overwhelmed, or wondering if I’m making any progress at all.

And I’m learning that both can be true.

I don’t know exactly where this journey will take me, what I’ll discover, or who I’ll become along the way.

But for once, I’m giving myself permission to find out.

Without pretending. Without having all the answers. And without waiting until I’m completely healed to start living.

I’m not that healed yet. And maybe that’s okay. 💜