Time Doesn’t Heal All Wounds

Time Doesn’t Heal All Wounds

Some wounds last a lifetime.

Image for postImage by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay

It has been said that time heals all wounds. I don?t agree. The wounds remain. Time ? the mind, protecting its sanity ? covers them with some scar tissue and the pain lessens, but it is never gone. ? Rose Kennedy

Reflecting On Trauma

Image for postImage by StockSnap from Pixabay

I?d like for you to take a moment to think about various times in your life when someone you loved hurt you badly.

Or even when a random stranger said something or did something to you that was hurtful.

Reflect on the physical and emotional trauma you?ve suffered in your life. I want you to do this for a moment because today, I want to challenge the age-old saying that ?time heals all wounds.?

Today, I want to combat this theory because, in my humble opinion, it?s bullshit.

I?ve experienced for myself that time heals most wounds but not all of them. Some wounds are too deep to heal. Some wounds are too painful to forget. These wounds are forever etched in our soul.

?There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.? ? Laurell K. Hamilton

I?ve forgiven everyone that has ever hurt me throughout the course of my life, but I haven?t forgotten certain painful things that have happened to me. My brain has held on to those moments and I use it for motivation to push me forward in life. I harness that aggression and that pain in order to channel it into achieving my goals.

But hey, that?s just me. That?s how I?ve chosen to live my own life.

I?m sure you?re probably wondering what kind of memory could be so painful that after all these years, I still can?t release it from the throes of my memory.

Well, I can give you an example of one.

My First Encounter With Racism

Image for postImage by WikiImages from Pixabay

When I was about 7 or 8-years-old, I was riding my bike around my neighborhood while my Mom was walking next to me.

It was during the Summer, I still remember it being a beautiful day. The sun was shining, there was a cool breeze, and I was really happy to be outside in our little neighborhood.

Such a pleasant day, everything felt perfect. I felt free, riding around on my bicycle without a care in the world.

It ended up being the first time in my life that I would be exposed to racism.

As I was riding my bike next to my mom, some random kid who was a couple of years older than me was walking on the other side of the street.

He must?ve recognized me from school and after looking at me and my mom, he blurted out?

Hey, nigg*r!

I?ll let you fill in the blanks on that one.

In that one moment of hatred that I felt inside, my young self had to make a choice. I could?ve just ignored the other kid and kept on minding my own business. I could?ve continued having fun with my mom and continued onwards to being an innocent kid.

Yet, on this day, I stopped being an innocent, naive kid.

My mom still recalls that day too. She said within a couple of seconds, I lept off of my bike, bolted across the street, pushed the other kid down to the ground, and proceeded to pummel him with my fists. Mom said that while I was smashing his face in, I was screaming at him. She told me that she had no idea, I was capable of doing something so heinous to another person.

My mom said that she had to pry me off of the kid because I wouldn?t stop hitting him and I was still clawing at his face when she was trying to pull me off of him. She said the other kid’s face was bloodied up pretty bad. Mom grabbed my bike and marched me home.

My racist foe was left there crying and he ran back to his house. Bruised ego and all. I saw him at school the next day and every day after that. He never said anything hateful to me ever again.

The Memory Is Still Etched In My Brain

Image for postImage by StockSnap from Pixabay

My parents were disappointed in me that I reacted so violently towards someone else because they always preached to ignore hateful people like that kid from school.

My mom and dad were very non-violent, peaceful people. I guess I wasn?t, not on this day at least.

But on that day, I decided that I?ve had enough of other people?s bullshit. This memory is still etched in my brain 23 or 24 years later.


Because I can?t wake up tomorrow and pretend that there aren?t hateful people that exist in this world. Not everyone I meet will like me and for some of those people, it?s simply because of the color of my skin. I?m not trying to be negative, I?m just being honest.

I still believe that there are more good people in this world than bad people. I also like to believe that the world is a lot more tolerant than it used to be. I had friends of all different ethnicities growing up and I for one will be teaching my kids the importance of not judging someone based on the color of their skin or where their family happens to be from.

I know what most people will tell you. Time heals all wounds. Just get over it, move on with your life.

What?s the big deal?

Why are you still holding on to those negative memories?

Usually, the people that say these types of things to you have no damn clue how painful of a moment this was for you. Most people won?t truly understand your pain because it?s not their pain. It didn?t happen to them, it happened to you. Your pain is your own. You can choose to do with it whatever you think is best for you.

Sometimes, the best thing to do is to never forget the hurt and pain someone inflicted on you. You can use that pain to propel you forward in your life. You can use that pain to push through obstacles that life throws at you.

It?s your choice.

That?s why I don?t always agree with the age-old saying that time heals all wounds.

Other articles of mine:

Society Always Tries To Stuff Us In A Box

In pretty much every aspect of our lives.


My 10 Writing Rules For Finding Success As A Writer

#3 ? Remain focused on offering value to the reader.


Do you want to take your writing to the next level? Join my email list and allow me to assist you in achieving your goals as a Writer.

Your Turn:

What is one painful memory from your past that you still carry with you today?

Connect With Me:




No Responses

Write a response