Can You Ever Really Heal From The Past?
- Alejandra
- May 31
- 4 min read
Have you ever heard a song you hadn’t listened to in decades—and suddenly found yourself awash in memory, emotion, and energy from a time you thought you’d long since healed from?
Same.
Maybe you’ve asked yourself:
“Wait…I thought I’d already healed from this. Why am I crying again?”
That just happened to me. Let’s talk about it.
The Song That Took Me Back
Music has always been a constant in my life. Songs have marked entire chapters—like little emotional bookmarks. So it’s no surprise that when I hear a song from 30+ years ago—one I haven’t heard since—I’m instantly transported.
That’s exactly what happened recently. Let me take you back.
I was waiting for my daughter outside her dance class when SWV’s “Human Nature” started playing—circa 1992 (Jesus, that sounds like the era of ancient relics and mystery).
That song didn’t take me back to a single moment but to a mosaic of memories. First love. Friendships. Dreams. And also, the shattering of innocence—specifically, a moment of pain, shame, and trauma I experienced at 16.
I played that song on repeat for two days. Not to wallow—but to feel. I let it open old doors. I allowed every emotion and memory to resurface. To bloom. To heal. To become alive again. To speak to me in ways that the wiser me could understand, as opposed to the younger me.
It was beautiful.
I gave those memories space to live again. To breathe. To be seen.
I allowed myself to cry for the pain I endured, to laugh about the memories and the sweet nostalgia of youth, and to yearn for the dreams that never got the chance to fully live. I gave those memories space to live again—albeit briefly. To breathe. To be seen.
I was giving them a hug, then energetically letting them know:
It’s okay. It’s all part of the grand picture that is our life.
When I shared this with a friend, she said: “Wow, that’s a rollercoaster. Do you think you’ve healed from it all?”
I hear this question often—especially in my day job working with trauma survivors: “How do you heal from something like that?”
And here’s the thing…
What Does "Healing" Actually Mean?
We throw the word around all the time—healing. But most people never really stop to define it. What does healing mean…for you? For anyone?
By definition, to heal is:
"To make whole.”
“To make healthy again.”
“To bring to an end or conclusion.”
If we’re speaking of the soul, healing might mean:
To cleanse or purify.
Sounds straightforward, right?
From Point A (pain) to Point B (peace).
Linear. Black and white. Simple.
But here’s the part most people miss:
Healing doesn’t end. It evolves.
The Ongoing Alchemy of Healing
After years of trauma and self-loathing, I did embark on a healing journey. I went from point A to point B. I moved forward. I stopped letting those painful memories define me and become my identity. I shed old skins and followed new pursuits and endeavours. I became empowered and free.
But the deeper truth?
Healing is a continuous exploration of self.
It’s not fixed, and it never ends. It’s fluid. It evolves.
It’s not about erasing the past—it’s about learning how to hold it with tenderness. We just navigate our memories differently when we’ve healed.
The Myth of "Being Over It"
There’s a widespread idea that once you’ve healed, the memories should no longer affect you. That you shouldn’t feel anything when they resurface. That if you do feel something, maybe you haven’t healed after all.
I call BS. That belief is where we go wrong. That’s not healing—that’s suppression.
Memories have energy. They are emotions attached to thoughts. They live.
And when something triggers them—a song, a scent, a season—they resurface. You can feel them, smell them, and experience them all over again.
And that’s okay.
You can feel them with fondness, detach from them, send them love and forgiveness—and then return to your present moment.
The key is:
Don't carry them into your present moment.
Ask yourself:
Can I remember without re-identifying?
Can I feel without becoming the feeling?
Can I return to the present moment with grace?
That is healing.
Revisiting Isn't Regression
So, if healing means being able to remember a painful experience, feel the emotions, and still return to the present with love and grace—then yes, I’ve healed.
And I continue to heal every time a memory invites me in.
But if healing means being unaffected, robotic, or emotionally detached?
Then no—I haven’t healed. And frankly, I don’t want to.
Because I’m not a robot.
I am human. I feel. I emote. I love. I remember.
And sometimes, revisiting melancholy feels oddly sweet—like a cozy sweater of nostalgia wrapped in grace.
It reminds me of how far I’ve come.
And in that moment, there’s room. Room for gratitude. Room for forgiveness. Room for healing.
Real healing happens every time you are able to revisit a memory, feel what it brings, and come back to your present moment with grace, love and forgiveness.
This is sacred.
The Daily Invitation
Healing happens in every moment we are blessed to live through.
Every challenge. Every memory. Every song. Every messy, mundane, or magical day is an invitation back to self—to presence.
And to the truth: You are still here. "Love will be right here," as the songs says.
And that is no small thing.
So don’t turn off the song that brings the tears. Let it play. Let it show you where you are now.
Let it remind you that healing is not a destination—it’s an experience, it is, quite frankly, personal devotion.
Meet your memories with love. Forgive the pain. Honour the journey. Let presence be your power.
Because the present moment—and your capacity to feel it fully—is the greatest gift you have.
Count your blessings. Dance with your grief. Laugh through your healing.
As always...
With tenderness, presence, and a splash of nostalgia,
A
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