Title: “We Survived, But We Are Still Healing” – A Collective Reflection
Survival is often celebrated as a victory. When the world hears the word survivor, it imagines strength, courage, and resilience. But behind that word lies something deeper—something softer, quieter, and often invisible. To survive is not the end of the story. It is the beginning of another journey—one that does not always move in straight lines.
This is a collective reflection from those who have endured loss, conflict, displacement, and the slow, complicated process of rebuilding life. It is not one story, but many voices speaking in a shared language of pain, hope, and healing.
We Survived, But the Wounds Are Still Here
Some of us survived the sound of gunshots that echoed through our childhood homes.
Some of us survived the silence that followed—the empty chairs at the dinner table.
Some of us survived long roads taken on foot, carrying only memories and fear.
But survival does not erase the scars.
Even now, years later, we flinch at loud noises.
We hesitate to trust.
We smile in public but cry quietly behind closed doors.
Healing is not something that happens on command. It does not follow a schedule. It is a process of learning to breathe again, to remember joy without guilt, to let ourselves feel safe.
We Carry Stories That Cannot Be Seen
Some wounds are visible.
A missing limb.
A burned home.
An empty grave.
But some wounds live inside.
Trauma is not always loud. Sometimes it whispers through sleepless nights.
Sometimes it shows up in the way we avoid certain places.
Sometimes it is in the way we forget how to feel everything because feeling anything is too much.
We survived, but our stories are heavy. Telling them is not easy. But silence is heavier.
Healing Is Not About Forgetting
We do not want to forget those we lost.
We do not want to pretend that the past did not happen.
Healing for us means learning how to carry our memories without breaking under their weight.
It means holding grief in one hand and hope in the other.
It means accepting that we can smile again—not because we no longer feel pain, but because joy is also part of being alive.
We Heal in Our Own Time, in Our Own Way
Some of us heal through prayer.
Some through community.
Some through telling our stories.
Some through silence.
Some through helping others heal.
There is no right way. There is no finish line. There is no moment when someone can look at us and say, “Now, you are healed.”
Healing is a journey, and we walk it slowly. Together.
We Are Still Here
We survived, yes. But we are still healing.
Do not celebrate our survival without understanding our pain.
Do not admire our strength without acknowledging our fragility.
Do not tell us to move on when we are still learning how to move forward.
We are not asking for pity.
We are asking for understanding.
For space to feel.
For the freedom to heal at our own pace.
And most of all—we are asking for the world not to look away.
A Final Word
If you are reading this, and you too are a survivor of something that changed you—know this:
You are not weak because you are still healing.
You are not behind because it still hurts.
You are not broken because the memories still visit you.
You are healing. And healing is not easy.
But you are not alone.
We survived.
But we are still healing.
And that is okay.
