Hurry Up and Heal

There is a quiet violence in how the world expects us to deal with sadness.

No one says it directly. But you feel it.

In how quickly people move on.

In how often you’re asked, “Are you better now?”

In how uncomfortable silence becomes when you’re not okay.

I’ve lived inside that violence. I am Syria; though the war that began in 2011 has quieted, it has not ended.

Just over a year ago, I experienced grief. Real, heavy grief. The kind that sits in your chest and doesn’t explain itself. I didn’t know what to do with it, so I did what most of us do - I kept moving.

A month later, I was standing at the roof of Africa, Mount Kilimanjaro.

It was a big moment. One of those things people celebrate. Something people admire. I leaned into that. I let that moment carry me. I let it speak louder than what I was feeling.

But the truth is, my sadness didn’t go anywhere. It just got quieter. Hidden behind the achievement.

The Performance of Being Okay

After that, I stayed busy. I pushed my career forward. I travelled more. I smiled more than I usually would.

From the outside, it probably looked like I was doing well. Like I had healed.

But I hadn’t.

I had just found better ways to distract myself.

And the world makes it easy. Especially online.

Everything is about being okay. Looking okay. Showing that you’re okay. And when you’re not, it starts to feel like something is wrong with you. Like you’re taking too long. Like you need to fix it.

The Rush

So you rush.

You rush your feelings.

You rush your healing.

You rush yourself.

You say “I’m fine” even when you’re not.

And sometimes, the truth is more complicated than that.

Because I am sad.

Not depressed.

Just extremely sad.

I still show up. I still function. I still find moments that feel light, even if they don’t last long. And that matters. That distinction matters. Because not all sadness is something broken. Not all heaviness needs to be labelled or fixed.

Some of it just needs to be felt.

Sadness doesn’t leave just because you’re busy.

It doesn’t shrink because you’re achieving things.

It doesn’t disappear because you’ve learned how to smile through it.

It waits.

And eventually, it comes back.

This time, I don’t want to do that again.

I don’t want to hide it.

I don’t want to cover it up with wins or movement or noise.

I want to feel it.

Not all at once. Not perfectly. But honestly.

I want to sit with it when it comes.

I want to allow the waves, even when they don’t make sense.

I want to give myself permission to not be okay without trying to explain it.

I do not want sadness to become who I am.

But right now, it is a part of me. A big part.

And I’m not interested in pretending otherwise.

Redefining Wellness

I’m learning that there’s a difference between being stuck in sadness and actually feeling it. Feeling it is slower. It’s quieter. It doesn’t look impressive. But it’s real.

And maybe that’s what wellness actually is.

Not forcing yourself to be okay.

Not performing happiness.

But giving yourself space to be human.

So when the world says “hurry up and heal,”

I’m choosing not to listen.

I’m choosing to take my time.

Because healing isn’t something you prove.

It’s something you live through.