Healing Isn't About Becoming Softer. It's About Remembering You're Dangerous

You didn’t survive all that just to be made small again.

Healing isn’t about smiling wider.
It’s not about forgiving faster.
It’s not about learning to sit quietly in rooms that once broke you.

Healing is about walking back into the world knowing you survived what should’ve killed you —
and not needing anyone to understand why you carry yourself different now.

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They told you healing meant being softer.
More agreeable.
More "at peace."

What they meant was:
We hope you get quiet enough to stay manageable.

They didn’t want your healing.
They wanted your harmlessness.

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But real healing doesn’t shrink you.
It doesn’t make you easier to tolerate.
It doesn’t erase the memory of what you had to claw your way through to still be standing.

Real healing makes you dangerous again.

Not dangerous because you want revenge.
Not dangerous because you want to hurt anyone.
Dangerous because you no longer apologize for the fire it took to survive.

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You’re not healing into submission.
You’re healing into sovereignty.

You’re not rebuilding yourself into a prettier version of who they hurt.
You’re building someone they can’t recognize — and someone they can never reach again.

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You don’t owe the world your softness.
You owe yourself your strength.

The ones who taught you that "healing" meant silencing your anger, your grief, your rage —
they were never trying to help you heal.
They were trying to help you forget.

Forget what they did.
Forget what it cost.
Forget what it taught you.

Forget how powerful you are when you stop begging for crumbs and start burning your own path.

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You didn’t survive to be sweet.
You survived to be free.

You survived to carry a voice that shakes the walls they built to keep you small.

You survived to remember:
You were never broken.
You were forced to break.
And now you're putting yourself back together in a way they can’t touch, can’t mold, and can’t control.

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Healing isn’t about becoming softer.
It’s about remembering you’re dangerous again —
and walking like it.

—Cody Taymore