Healing Is Not Linear: What Ive Learned About Recovery,Motherhood, and Self-Worth

BY Mandy Kuntz

I might've laughed through tears if someone had told me years ago that healing wouldn't be a straight line, I might've laughed through tears. Because when you're clawing your way out of addiction, trauma, or heartbreak, you want a map. You want milestones, clear answers, and a promise to get there if you do the work. You'll get there.

But the truth is, healing doesn't follow directions. It's not neat or predictable. It loops back around, knocks you off course, surprises you, and sometimes makes you question everything. What I've come to realize is that healing is a relationship. I have to show up for it every day, even when I don't feel like it. Especially then.

Recovery Taught Me Grace

When I first got sober, I thought I had to be perfect. I felt that if I just said the right things, worked the steps fast enough, or showed up strong daily, I'd never struggle again.

But that pressure to be okay nearly broke me.

In recovery, I learned grace. I learned how to meet myself with compassion on the days when I felt like I was falling apart. I learned that relapses, mistakes, and breakdowns didn't mean I was a failure; they were part of the process. Recovery didn't ask me to be perfect; it asked me to keep coming back.

Motherhood Made It Real

Becoming a mom added a whole new layer to my healing. Suddenly, it wasn't just about me anymore. I wanted to break cycles. I wanted to give my daughters the love and stability I never had. I didn't want them to grow up with the kind of pain I carried.

But that's heavy work. There are days when I feel completely depleted, when I've poured out everything I have and still feel like it's not enough—days when my emotions trigger me or when I see parts of myself reflected at me in ways that sting.

But my girls have also been my most excellent teachers. They remind me to slow down, be present, and keep growing, not only for them but also for me.

Healing Means Letting Go of Shame

For so long, I carried shame like it was stitched into my skin. Shame for what I did in addiction. Shame for how I let people down—shame for not being further along.

But the more I shared my story in therapy, in meetings, and with safe people, the more I realized I wasn't alone. So many of us hold onto guilt and shame that don't belong to us.

We're punishing ourselves for surviving.

Healing means releasing that shame, not because we're perfect, but because we're human. We are worthy of healing, even if the world tells us we aren't.

Progress doesn't Always Look Pretty.

Some days, progress is loud. You set a boundary, say no, and show up for yourself in a way you never have.

Other days, it's quiet. You get out of bed. You drink water. You breathe through the panic. You parent with patience even when you're falling apart inside. Both are progress. Both matter. And both deserve to be honored.

You're Allowed to Grow

The woman I was in early recovery is not the woman I am today, and thank God for that. I've had to grow through heartbreak, loss, grief, and setbacks. I've let go of people I once thought I couldn't live without. I've had to rewrite the story I believed about myself.

And I'm still growing.

Healing means allowing yourself to evolve, to take up space, to stop shrinking, and to make other people comfortable. It's about finding the courage to become who you were always meant to be, even if it takes time.

So, How Do We Heal?

There's no one way. Everyone's healing journey is different. But here's what I know has helped and continues to help me every day:

- Go to therapy. My therapist has walked beside me through some of the hardest, ugliest, and most tender parts of my life. She didn't try to fix me. She held space

for me to find my voice again, which changed everything. Here are some

options for therapists in our practice.

- Practice self-care without guilt. That might mean journaling, walking, or

napping without feeling bad about it. I had to learn that rest is not a reward, it's a

necessity.

- Take time away from your kids if you need to. I used to feel bad stepping away.

But I learned I can't pour from an empty cup. And when I take care of myself, I

show up better for them.

- Do the deep work. I had to look at my patterns, pain, and my reactions, even the

ones I hated. Healing starts with being brutally honest with yourself, even when it

hurts.

- Build a support circle. Find your people, whether friends, a sponsor, or people in

your corner who get it. Let them hold you accountable and love you when you

forget to love yourself.

- Take medication if needed. There is no shame in supporting your mental health

with medication. I took it when needed, which helped give me stability that I

couldn't create independently.

- Lean into your strength. For me, that strength is God. My spiritual connection

grounds me when everything else feels chaotic. Maybe for you it's something

different: nature, art, yoga, music.

Whatever brings you peace, go there.

If You're in the Middle of It Right Now

I want you to know this:

You are not behind.

You are not broken.

You are not too much.

You're healing, and that's brave. That's sacred. That's enough. No, healing isn't linear. But every single step forward, even the tiniest one, counts.

You're not starting over. You're starting again wiser, softer, stronger.

And that's a beautiful thing.