22. April 2026

By Jenny Kuemmel | Momma Drama & Trauma

There’s a version of healing that people recognize.

The kind that looks strong, put together, maybe even inspiring.

And then there’s the kind no one really sees.

The quiet kind.
The messy kind.
The kind that happens behind closed doors while you’re still expected to show up for your life like everything is fine.

That’s the kind of healing this is about.

The Story

In the beginning, it didn’t feel like healing at all.

It felt like survival.

Days were unpredictable. One minute I could be okay-ish, and the next minute I was completely overwhelmed. Crying. Trying to hold it together. Trying to make sense of something that didn’t make sense.

I kept moving through my days because I had to.

Getting the kids out the door.
Keeping up with routines.
Doing what needed to be done.

From the outside, it probably looked like I was functioning.

But inside, I was falling apart.

The hardest moments came at night.

When everything slowed down and there was nothing left to distract me.

That’s when the reality would hit.

That’s when the emotions would come flooding in.

And there were nights I truly didn’t know how I was going to make it through.

There were moments I would sit in my closet just to cry, because it felt like the only place I could fall apart without anyone hearing me.

There were moments I reached for the person who had hurt me, still hoping he would somehow be the one to comfort me.

And that was one of the hardest parts.

Realizing the person I once went to for everything was no longer that person for me.

The Emotional Truth

Healing doesn’t always feel like progress.

Sometimes it feels like:

Confusion.
Fear.
Exhaustion.
Loneliness.

Sometimes it feels like nothing is changing.

But the truth is, something is happening underneath it all.

Even when it doesn’t feel like it.

Even when you’re just getting through the day.

Even when survival is the only thing you have in you.

That still counts.

There’s a version of strength that doesn’t look strong at all.

It looks like continuing to show up when everything inside you feels broken.

Educational Insight

What many people don’t realize is that healing often happens in very small, quiet ways.

Your mind and body are trying to process something overwhelming.

So instead of big, noticeable changes, what actually happens is:

You begin to regulate slowly.
You begin to create small moments of calm.
You begin to find tiny ways to cope.

Things like going for a walk, journaling, listening to music, or just sitting outside might not feel like “healing” in the moment.

But they are.

Those small actions help your nervous system settle, even just a little.

And over time, those small moments add up.

Healing is not one big breakthrough.

It’s a series of small shifts that happen quietly.

Solutions & Gentle Guidance

If you’re in this kind of season, here are a few things to hold onto:

Let small things count
You don’t need to fix everything. Getting through the day is enough sometimes.
Create small routines
Even something simple like going for a walk or journaling at night can give your mind a place to land.
Let yourself feel
You don’t have to hold it all in. The emotions are part of the process.
Find safe spaces
Whether it’s a person, a place, or even a quiet moment alone, having somewhere you can just be is important.
Keep going
Even when it feels like nothing is changing, something is.

Recommended Support

Books

Self Love Workbook for Women by Megan Logan

The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk

It Didn’t Start With You by Mark Wolynn

Podcasts

The Mel Robbins Podcast
Simple, real conversations that helped me feel less alone and more capable.

On Purpose with Jay Shetty
A mix of mindset, healing and perspective that helped me slow down and think differently.

Support Tools

Walking
At first, it was just a way to get out of the house. Fresh air, movement, something to break up the heaviness of the day. Over time, it became one of the things that helped me the most.

Journaling
Getting everything out of my head and onto paper helped release what I was holding inside. Some days it was thoughts. Some days it was questions I would never get answers to.

Music
Music met me exactly where I was. Some days I needed to cry. Some days I needed to feel strong. It helped me process emotions I didn’t always have words for.

Being around safe people
My mom especially. She didn’t try to fix anything. She just sat with me, listened and let me feel what I needed to feel. That mattered more than anything.

Time outside
Even just sitting on my porch, feeling the air, listening to the quiet. Those moments gave me space to breathe when everything else felt overwhelming.

Final Thoughts

Looking back, healing didn’t happen all at once.

It wasn’t loud.
It wasn’t obvious.
And it definitely wasn’t perfect.

It happened slowly.

In the moments where I didn’t give up.
In the days I kept going even when I didn’t want to.
In the quiet choices to keep showing up for my life.

Even when it felt like nothing was changing, something was.

Closing Connection

If you’re in a season like this right now, I want you to know something:

Just because it doesn’t look like healing, doesn’t mean it isn’t happening.

The days you get through matter.
The moments you keep going matter.
You matter.

And you’re not alone in this.

As Always
You are strong.
You are worthy.
And your story matters.
Until next time, take care of you. 💗

Some days survival is enough.