What does healing really look like? 

Speaking from my own experience as a survivor of childhood sexual, spiritual, and physical abuse, this is an essential question for me. Ever since I realized I had baggage I needed to deal with, I’ve thought many times about this question. I’ve been in what I consider the recovery process for a long time. And now and then, I feel like I’ve achieved some breakthrough. I would sigh and say, “Finally, that’s over. Now I can move on.” Only to discover that this onion has another layer that needs to be peeled back and dealt with. 

It was disappointing, and that’s putting it mildly. I would cry, be angry, and irritable, or both. Finally, I accepted that the journey must continue and embraced this new issue with resolve and determination, albeit reluctantly.  

Once again, I would ask God, myself, and whoever was available, how long it would be before I am healed?  

And that’s the thing. We all want a quick fix. But we didn’t get this way overnight. I sure didn’t. I suffered for decades from abuse, and those decades came with consequences. Not only do I need to deal with the damage to me. I also need to work through the damage I caused others. Which, at times, seems worse.  

So, here’s what I think. It’s kind of like this. Children are like wet cement. They come out each with their own bent. As parents, we try to shape that bent to be as straight as possible. So, for their own sake, they can live reasonably happy lives as adults. The cement is pretty smooth, and any defects are hardly noticeable. But sooner or later, as in my case, something or someone damages the surface. Maybe a kid rides his bike across it, leaving deep tracks. Some uncaring individual just stomps through it with combat boots.  

Who knows, but the point is the surface gets gouged out. Now, using that same analogy, when the children are young, the cement is still wet or hasn’t completely set. It can be smoothed out and leveled, and you can hardly notice that anything was ever bent. But! If you wait too long, it will be a lot of work to sandblast the edges. It will also take a lot of effort to fill in the cracks. Even then, it is evident to the casual observer that damage has been done. And if left untreated, the surface will be challenging to navigate.  

So, back to the original question. If I’m so messed up, and nothing has been done to help me. Now that I’m 40 years old, I can’t understand why nothing seems to work in my life. What do I do?  

Well, there are drugs, alcohol, and sex, which will only make things worse and make me unbearable. Or, there’s therapy. It can help me understand why I am the way I am. Therapy can also give me some healthy options to compensate for my issues.

But that only works with behaviors. I want to heal. To do that, I need to tackle the whole person: body, soul, mind, and spirit. The body can be addressed with sleep, exercise, and healthy nutrition. The soul needs to deal with the innate bent toward self. The mind must adjust its attitude toward life and other relationships with work and play in the community. But I suspect the spirit is where some real progress toward healing can happen. Let me explain why.  

As I’ve mentioned before, we come into this world with a natural bent toward selfishness and rebellion. No, you say? Then you have never tried raising a child. You never have to teach a child to be selfish, stubborn, greedy, or lying. But you do have to teach them to be unselfish. You must teach them to be more cooperative. They need to show compassion to others. It’s essential to teach them to be honest and truthful.  

This part is the human heart or spirit. It has to be healed first, and then the rest is so much easier to encourage.  

I grew up being taught about God, love, and forgiveness. While I was being abused, I never forgot how to connect with God. He helped me through the horrible times because I kept coming back to the truth of God’s love for me. The Holy Spirit kept urging me toward better attitudes. He encouraged me to adopt healthier behaviors. Despite all of this, I tended to deal with the damage in unhealthy ways.  

So, here I am today. I still have all the scars. I can point to all the damage and its effects on me. But yet there is a peace about it. I have all the memories still. But the sting of them is gone. I view them as photographs of different moments in my life. Sometimes there is sadness. Sometimes there is regret. But there is no wish to medicate with substances or unhealthy behaviors anymore. I’ve made peace with as many as I can. I’ve made peace with myself. I’ve made peace with my abusers. My anger has subsided to a manageable level now.  

Sometimes I can still be triggered by something I’m watching or reading. Sometimes it’s a person whose actions or words can affect me. But my reactions are better controlled, and I know what is happening and why.  

I’m still me, just different and comfortable in my skin at last. Am I the person I’ve always wished to be? No, not at all, and that’s okay. I’m loved and accepted, and I know I’ll be OK. I have a wife who sometimes doesn’t like me but loves me, knows me, and accepts me, flaws and all. For me, that’s as good a definition of healing as I have hoped for. 

Just my thoughts. 

Roger Mann

Roger Mann draws from his own journey to help others navigate the challenges of trauma and addiction. Roger has over 45 years of experience in the medical field. He brings both professional knowledge and personal insight to his work. Through compassion and lived understanding, Roger supports people in finding hope and building healthier futures. His mission is driven by a belief in the power of resilience and the possibility of transformation.