Sometimes healing hurts.
Not just for us. For the people who were used to the version of us that needed them.
Hurt By My Healing came from that place. Not a dramatic ending. No explosion. Just a slow shift in a relationship I cared about deeply. Nothing was “wrong” in a clear, easy-to-point-to way. But something in me had changed. I was clearer. Quieter inside. Less willing to override my own needs to keep things comfortable.
That change landed like loss on the other side. And that’s the tension this song sits in.
Lyrically
I’m sorry that you’re hurt
Hurt by my healing
That line arrived and everything else followed it.
It isn’t an apology for growing. It’s an acknowledgement of impact. The truth that you can do something right for yourself and still cause pain.
You say the trust is broken
It’s all been rearranged
But I can’t keep pretending
That growth and love can’t live with change
Those lines feel gentle to me, not defensive. Still caring. Still connected. Just no longer willing to collapse back into an old shape.
I didn’t want the song to resolve cleanly. Real endings rarely do. But I did want it to land somewhere calm. Not triumphant. Not guilty. Just… settled.
Sonically
This track doesn’t push. It sits.
Rhodes, acoustic guitar, warm percussion. Shakers, congas, bongos. The drums feel human, not polished. The groove moves, but softly.
There’s a shimmer in the synths, like light on water. Layers of harmonies come in quietly, almost like someone sitting beside you rather than standing in front of you.
It’s not a big song. It doesn’t need to be. The space is part of the emotional weight.
I wanted it to feel like a conversation you have when the storm has already passed. Voices low. No drama left. Just honesty.
Visually
The visuals leaned into that in-between state. Soft light. Blurred edges. Space. Things growing, but slowly.
Nothing sharp. Nothing loud.
Why this one matters
I wrote this while I was still in it. Still feeling the guilt. The relief. The sadness. All at once.
The song helped me hold both truths without trying to pick a side.
I can care. I can be sorry you’re hurting. And I can still not go back.
That was new for me.