Healing from trauma can feel like wandering through a world you never asked to enter—with no map, low energy, and invisible enemies waiting around every corner. But sometimes, when I take a step back and look at the process, I realize—it’s kind of like a video game.

It reminds me of Super Mario—the way each level starts off light, then ramps up until you’re suddenly dodging fireballs and trying not to fall off the edge. Trauma can feel just like that. Every level I complete in the game feels like a step forward in my healing. But when I’m stuck in a round—looping through it over and over—it’s usually because something inside me feels unsettled. Something unresolved. And until I face it—or use my “power-ups”—I can’t move forward.

The early levels? They’re deceptively simple. I’m gliding through, feeling hopeful. Then I hit that next level—unexpected, overwhelming, and suddenly I’m battling more than I can handle. How do I fight the big monster and dodge all the little threats coming at me?

Life feels like that too. Work gets messy. Relationships unravel. Emotions overflow. You start craving a break, a time-out. Just one level where you can breathe. Where you don’t have to fight. Like in Mario—you’re just trying to reach the castle.

But here’s the thing—like in any good game, there are power-ups. Tools that help us along the way. You just have to find them. Sometimes it’s a comforting message from a friend. A quiet moment where you actually exhale. A new coping skill you learned in therapy. These are your healing power-ups.

There are save points too—those sacred moments where you pause, reflect, and realize: You’ve come so far. They remind you of your growth. Of your strength. Of the fact that you’re not where you started.

Healing is a journey. And just like in a game, it’s okay to rest. It’s okay to pause. It’s okay to find joy, take breaks, and recharge. This isn’t about rushing to the end—it’s about building strength, finding balance, and learning to trust your pace.

You begin the game wounded. No map. No instructions. Low energy. And your enemies? Flashbacks. Shame. Panic. Fear. That voice that whispers, “You’re not strong enough.”

But then—slowly—you start collecting tools. Maybe it’s therapy. A book that puts your feelings into words. A boundary you finally set. Self-compassion. Rest. Your voice. You begin building your own toolbox.

And you find allies. A therapist who listens without judgment. A friend who says, “Me too.” A partner who stays, even when you’re unraveling. These are the ones who help you survive the hardest levels.

Some battles keep coming back—the “boss fights.” A trauma pattern. A toxic relationship. A memory that still stings. You think you should’ve conquered it by now, but healing isn’t linear. You’re not failing. You’re learning.

And when you finally break through? You don’t just move forward. You level up. With experience, resilience, and clarity. You’re stronger. More grounded. More aware of what you deserve.

There are side quests too—those quiet, often-overlooked wins:
✨ Laughing without guilt
✨ Cooking and actually enjoying it
✨ Taking a walk and feeling the sun
✨ Saying no and not explaining why

They may seem small. But they matter.

And here’s my favorite part:
You are the main character.

You choose your pace. You can take breaks. You can try again. You can fall apart and come back stronger. And even when it feels like you’re losing—you’re still in the game.

That means you’re still healing.
That means you’re still winning.
And maybe for the first time, you’re not just playing to survive—you’re playing to live.

Let’s Connect

What level are you on in your healing journey?
What’s your latest side quest?
Drop a comment or connect with me—I’d love to hear your story.