Trauma doesn’t disappear. That’s the most honest thing I can say after years of clinical work. It changes shape. It quiets down. Sometimes, it even becomes part of your strength. But it doesn’t go away. It’s like a scar -- a scar is proof that something healed, not proof that nothing ever happened. I’ve had so many people sit across from me and ask, “When will I finally be completely okay?” And my answer is always the same: “You’re already doing better than you think.” It’s not a platitude. I mean it. The moment someone can say, “I’ve been hurt,” that alone is an act of real courage. Most people spend their entire lives swallowing that sentence, and it turns into insomnia, irritability, or the quiet lie of “I’m just tired.” The ones who can say it out loud? They’ve already begun to carry themselves across.