The Myth of Perfect Healing: You Don’t Need to Be “Fixed” to Let People In

There’s a quiet pressure that creeps in after betrayal trauma. A whisper that says: You must be fully healed before you let anyone close again. You must be flawless, boundary-bound, trigger-free, and emotionally enlightened before you’re safe to connect.

It’s seductive, isn’t it? The idea that healing is a finish line. That once you cross it, you’ll be immune to heartbreak, rejection, or regret. But here’s the truth: healing isn’t a destination. It’s a rhythm. A spiral. A dance with your own dignity.

And perfection? Perfection is a performance. It’s the armor we wear when we’re terrified of being hurt again.

🎾 My Own Perfection Spiral

I know that spiral well. I played Division I college tennis. And back then, perfection wasn’t just a goal—it was survival. Every match, every sprint, every practice was a test of worth. I believed if I just worked harder, trained longer, pushed deeper, I could earn safety. Earn belonging. Earn the right to rest.

That mindset didn’t stay on the court. After betrayal, I found myself slipping back into that same loop: If I just heal harder… if I read more books, set better boundaries, meditate longer… maybe then I’ll be safe to let people in.

But healing isn’t a sport. There’s no scoreboard. No referee. And no gold medal for being the most emotionally evolved.

 Perfection Is Not Protection

After betrayal trauma—whether from infidelity, abandonment, or emotional neglect—it makes sense to crave control. To build a fortress of insight, boundaries, and self-awareness so thick that no one can breach it. But sometimes, that fortress becomes a prison.

We mistake hyper-independence for strength. We confuse emotional self-sufficiency with safety. We tell ourselves: I’ll let people in when I’m no longer afraid.

But fear doesn’t vanish with time. It softens through connection.

 Connection as Catalyst

You don’t need to be “done” healing to be worthy of connection. You don’t need to be perfect to be safe. Sometimes, the right relationship—platonic, romantic, or communal—is the very thing that helps you grow.

Not because it fixes you. But because it reflects you. Because it invites you to practice trust, boundaries, and repair in real time.

Healing in isolation can teach you self-respect. Healing in relationship can teach you mutual respect.

Both matter. Neither requires perfection.

 Letting People In While Still Healing

Here’s what trauma-informed connection can look like:

• Saying “I’m still learning how to trust, but I want to try.”

• Naming your triggers without apologizing for them.

• Practicing boundaries that honor your nervous system, not punish others.

• Letting someone witness your healing without making them responsible for it.

You are allowed to be a work-in-progress and still worthy of closeness. You are allowed to be cautious and still crave connection. You are allowed to be healing and still choose to let people in.

 How to Overcome the Fear of Trying Again

If fear is keeping you frozen, here are a few gentle ways to start moving:

• Micro-bravery: Try one small act of vulnerability—like texting a friend, sharing a boundary, or saying “I’m not sure, but I’m open.”

• Name the fear: Write it down. Speak it aloud. Fear loses power when it’s witnessed.

• Create safety rituals: Before and after connection, do something grounding—walk, breathe, stretch, journal. Let your nervous system know it’s okay to try.

• Use metaphor: Imagine fear as a fog, not a wall. You can walk through it slowly, with lanterns of self-trust.

• Celebrate effort, not outcome: Every attempt is a win. Trying is healing.

You don’t have to leap. You can inch. You don’t have to be fearless. You just have to be willing.

 A STRONGHEART Reframe

You don’t need to be perfect. You need to be present. You don’t need to be healed. You need to be honest.

Letting people in can be part of your healing—not the proof that it’s complete.