It Takes More Than Time

Healing Isn't Passive: What True Healing Asks Of Us

“Time can give you space from the sharpness of pain, but it doesn’t do the whole job on its own.”

“Time heals all wounds.” At first glance, this sounds like a comforting reminder that pain fades with time. But under the surface, this belief carries the implication that the mere passage of time is enough to resolve trauma, right wrongs, or repair ruptured relationships. Taken literally, it suggests that the intensity of suffering diminishes with distance from the painful event, whether that’s a loss, heartbreak, betrayal, or disappointment. This mentality, whether intentional or unintentional, can absolve people of responsibility to make an effort, take accountability, or change their behavior.

While the phrase is certainly loaded, it’s not completely inaccurate. Over time, emotional wounds often lose their intensity; they may no longer feel as raw, sharp, or overwhelming as they once did. With distance from the painful event, the human nervous system naturally seeks equilibrium, and memories that once flooded daily life can fade into the background. Grief softens, heartbreak stops dominating every thought, and anger that once felt consuming can settle into something more manageable. In this sense, time can create space. A kind of buffer between the immediacy of pain and the possibility of perspective. What once felt unbearable may, with the passing of months or years, feel less defining and less disruptive. But this doesn’t mean the wound has fully healed or that it leaves no mark; rather, time allows the raw edges of pain to scar over, making it possible for people to carry their experiences without being constantly cut open by them. Time, in this way, can be a quiet ally.

At the same time, the idea that “time heals all wounds” oversimplifies the healing process. It suggests that healing as a passive process, in which pain, loss and trauma will be resolved if we wait long enough. Yes, time may dull pain, but it does not automatically transform it. Emotional injuries that are never acknowledged, processed, or cared for can remain dormant and hidden, resurfacing through triggers, repeating patterns, or unexplained tension in relationships. Suppressed grief may turn into numbness; unexamined anger may morph into resentment. As author John Green writes, “pain demands to be felt.” When emotions surface, they often arrive first as an invitation—an opening to acknowledge, process, and tend to what hurts. But when ignored, suppressed, or dismissed, those same emotions transform into something more forceful, like a subpoena. What was once an opportunity becomes a summons you cannot avoid. This is the truth about unhealed pain: it will insist on being seen, either gently or urgently. Time may give pain a softer voice, but unprocessed wounds will continue to reverberate beneath the surface until they are given attention.

This is where a dialectical perspective is helpful. Both can be true: time can create the distance needed for perspective, resilience, and eventual relief, and yet, without intentional engagement, pain can persist, evolving into something deeper and more entrenched. Time can soothe, but it cannot replace the work of meaning-making, repair, or self-compassion. Healing requires both the natural passage of time and the active tending to our inner world. To say “time heals all wounds” risks erasing the agency and responsibility involved in recovery. A more nuanced truth might be: time softens wounds, but healing happens when we meet pain with presence, curiosity, and care.

Healing as Participation

Time may create distance, but it is what we do within that distance that determines whether we move toward healing or simply carry wounds that calcify into silence and distortion. Healing is never passive; it is participatory. It asks for courage, not only to face pain directly, but also to resist the pressure to reshape it into a story that makes others comfortable.

That process often involves several intertwined movements:

• Acknowledging pain rather than minimizing or excusing it.

• Processing the experience by naming what happened and how it affected you.

• Making meaning or finding the lesson, which doesn’t justify the harm but reclaims agency by locating wisdom in survival.

• Seeking support, whether through trusted relationships, therapy, community, or spiritual practice.

• Releasing the grip of what was done to you while reclaiming your right to joy, love, and wholeness.

Healing usually takes more than just waiting for time to pass. Time can give you space from the sharpness of pain, but it doesn’t do the whole job on its own. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting or erasing what happened; it means changing the way that experience lives inside of you. Over time, a wound can become a scar. Not something that keeps hurting, but a reminder of what you’ve lived through and how you’ve grown. Time might make that possible, but it’s your intentional choices. It's how you reflect, seek support, and care for yourself, that really shape whether the pain keeps distorting your present or becomes part of your story in a healthier way.

Photo by Aron Visuals on Unsplash