Why Healing Isn't Linear

If I am completely honest, this is something I need to remind myself of regularly.

As many of you know, although I spend my days supporting others on their healing journey, I am also on one of my own. Living with chronic health challenges has taught me that healing is rarely predictable. There are weeks where I feel like I have finally turned a corner, followed by days where symptoms unexpectedly resurface and I find myself wondering, "Am I actually making progress?"

It is incredibly easy to become discouraged.

When we are investing so much into our health—whether that is changing our diet, taking supplements, prioritising sleep or making lifestyle changes—we naturally hope that each day will be better than the last.

But healing simply does not work that way.

One of the greatest lessons I have learnt, both personally and through working with hundreds of patients, is that healing is rarely linear. It unfolds in layers. There are seasons of momentum, seasons of rest, and moments that feel like setbacks but are often preparing us for the next stage of recovery.

Our bodies are incredibly intelligent. They prioritise what needs attention most, and healing happens one layer at a time. As inflammation settles, infections are addressed, nutritional deficiencies are corrected, or the nervous system begins to regulate, different symptoms can temporarily fluctuate. It does not necessarily mean something is wrong—it often means your body is adapting and continuing its work.

When I find myself in those frustrating moments, I have learnt to ask a different question. Instead of asking, "Why am I feeling worse today?", I ask myself, "Am I doing better than I was three or six months ago?"

The answer is almost always yes.

There have certainly been times where I have questioned whether I should keep going, whether I would ever feel like myself again, or whether I was simply chasing the next piece of the puzzle. Living with chronic illness can test your patience in ways that few people truly understand. Yet every time I pause and look at the bigger picture, I realise I am not where I was six months ago—or even a year ago. The path has not been straight, but it has been forward. Perhaps I recover more quickly after a busy day. Perhaps I sleep more deeply. Perhaps my resilience has improved, even if I still have difficult days. Perhaps I bounce back from a flare more quickly than I once did.

These are not small victories—they are evidence that healing is happening.

I often think of healing like climbing a mountain through fog. Some days the clouds clear and you can see how far you have come. Other days the fog rolls in, and it feels as though you have not moved at all. Yet every single step is still taking you closer to the summit.

As a naturopath, I encourage my patients to celebrate these quieter improvements because they are often the first signs that the body is rebuilding stronger foundations. Lasting healing is rarely dramatic. More often, it is subtle, gradual and cumulative.

This perspective has changed the way I approach my own health. Rather than striving for perfection, I have learnt to look for progress. Rather than fearing every flare, I try to see the bigger picture. Rather than expecting my body to heal overnight, I have learnt to trust that each small step is contributing to something much greater.

If you are feeling discouraged today, I hope this encourages you to keep going.

Healing is not measured by whether every day is better than the last.

It is measured by the direction you are travelling.

Sometimes the most profound healing is happening quietly, beneath the surface, long before you can see the results. And perhaps that is exactly where you are right now.