I thought I would feel better by now.
Something began shifting around Easter Sunday — quiet, internal, unspoken. I didn’t fully understand it then, but looking back, it was the beginning of something sacred.
A few days later, it happened.
The crack open — the deep, physical Somatic Emotional Release that moved through my body like a storm I didn’t see coming.
It wasn’t just a feeling.
It was my body letting go of what my mind couldn’t name.
And yet… I’m still tired.
Not just sleepy — but bone-deep tired.
That kind of exhaustion that doesn’t go away with a nap. The kind that lingers behind your eyes and under your ribs. It’s the kind of tired that makes you wonder if you’re broken, or failing, or missing something.
But maybe I’m not broken.
Maybe I’m just in the holy pause.
The part no one talks about.
The quiet between the storm and the sunrise.
The stillness between the exhale and the next breath.
The ache between who I was and who I’m becoming.
We talk a lot about healing — about the release, the clarity, the breakthrough. But no one talks about the after. The days and weeks later, when you feel like you’ve shed a thousand pounds of emotional weight, but your body still carries the memory of every single one.
This is that space.
Where my nervous system is still integrating.
Where my hormones are rewiring.
Where my sleep is inconsistent, my cravings wild, and my emotions unanchored.
Where I write, and then crash.
Where I feel light, then heavy. Alive, then numb.
And yet, in all of it — I know something is happening.
Something sacred.
Something that can’t be rushed or optimized.
It feels like grief.
It feels like rest.
It feels like a body that has finally been heard — and now needs time to heal from everything it was forced to hold in silence.
So I’m choosing to see this fatigue as sacred.
Not a failure, but a holy pause.
And while I rest, while I breathe, while I try to trust this space — I remind myself I’m still here.
Still healing.
Still becoming.
So if you’re tired after your healing, you’re not doing it wrong.
You’re just in the holy pause.
And that, too, is sacred.
Where softness, self-awareness, and emotional healing are allowed to coexist. Through reflective writing, grounding rituals, and intentional beauty, Sparrow Trades offers gentle support for sensitive souls learning to reconnect with themselves.
