top of page

Why Recovery Feels Slow (Even When You’re Growing)

Minimal line-art spiral representing the non-linear path of healing.

No one warns you that healing often feels like nothing is happening.


You can be doing the work, learning the language of your nervous system, showing up for yourself in ways you never could before, and still feel like progress is moving through molasses. It’s confusing because your mind wants clean lines and steady improvement.


But your body doesn’t heal in straight lines. It heals in spirals.


One day, you feel open and hopeful. The next day, you’re tired in a way that’s deeper than fatigue, almost like your bones are remembering a story your mind has already rewritten. It’s not regression. It’s recalibration. Your nervous system expands when it feels safe enough to try something new. Then it contracts to integrate that growth without losing stability.


This back-and-forth rhythm isn’t a flaw; it’s the biology of becoming someone who can hold more life without bracing for impact.


There is a quiet phase in recovery that no one celebrates, mostly because it doesn’t look like much from the outside. You’re not falling apart anymore, but you’re not quite flourishing yet either. You’re somewhere in the middle, tending the internal architecture that will eventually support your breakthroughs. The middle is slow because the middle is foundational. It’s where your body learns to trust consistency after a lifetime of chaos or over-functioning.


Healing isn’t the dramatic transformation we were sold. It’s the decision to keep choosing yourself in small, repetitive ways. It’s giving your system permission to move at the pace of truth, not at the pace of performance. It’s recognizing that stability is progress, even when it feels uneventful.


If recovery feels slow, it’s not because you’re doing something wrong.


It’s because your nervous system is finally healing, honestly, without pressure, without punishment, and without pretending. Growth is happening beneath the surface... quietly, patiently, and right on time.



Thank you for reading. If this stirred something in you and you’d like to spend more time with this work, you can explore The Humble Pie 12 Steps and learn more about how I support people as a trauma recovery coach.

Comments

Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating

A slice in your inbox

Hi, I’m Jane Davidson. I’m a trauma recovery coach, educator, and writer. I work with people who were taught to be strong instead of supported, and who are ready to begin again with honesty, softness, and clarity.

bottom of page