Emotional Baggage Airlines: Should You Buy a Ticket?
Let’s get one thing straight: everyone’s always “healing” from something. Some people are healing from a breakup, some from their childhood, and some from the fact that Taco Bell doesn’t hit the same after 30. But the question is—should you date someone who’s still got their emotional duct tape wrapped around them? Let’s unpack this with a little bit of humor, brutal honesty, and just enough sarcasm to make someone close the tab in anger.
The Emotional Crutch Olympics
You ever notice how dating someone who’s still healing is basically like signing up to be their unpaid therapist, but with worse boundaries and way more awkward sex? It’s like, “Hey, welcome to my emotional landfill. Can you help me recycle my trauma while we Netflix and chill?” Nah, man. I signed up for a relationship, not a TED Talk on why your ex was a narcissist.
Here’s the thing: when someone says they’re “still healing,” it can mean one of two things. Option one: they’re actually doing the work—therapy, journaling, maybe meditating or lifting weights instead of stalking their ex on Instagram. Option two: they’re using “healing” as a code word for “I’m still emotionally renting a U-Haul with my ex’s ghost in the passenger seat.”
And you, my friend, have to figure out which option you’re dealing with. Spoiler: 80% of the time, it’s option two. Why? Because according to the American Psychological Association, 71% of adults report experiencing stress related to past relationships. That’s a big pool of folks dragging their baggage right into your living room. And guess what—you’re not gonna unpack all those suitcases unless you’re getting paid $200 an hour and have a framed degree behind your head.
Let’s be real—dating someone mid-healing is basically agreeing to be the rebound’s rebound. It’s like dating a smartphone that hasn’t finished its software update. Yeah, it turns on, but every five minutes it freezes and reminds you that “storage is full.” You want stability, but you’re stuck troubleshooting glitches from an OS designed by trauma.
Now here’s the controversial part: maybe you’re into that. Maybe you like the fixer-upper challenge. You’re that guy who sees a busted car on Craigslist and thinks, “Yeah, man, I’ll get that running again.” But let me ask you—why the hell do you want a project when you could get something road-ready? What are you trying to prove? That your love is strong enough to reprogram someone’s emotional Wi-Fi? Spoiler alert: it’s not.
So here’s the first question to chew on: are you dating because you want a partner, or are you dating because you need to play Captain Save-A-Broken-Soul? And if it’s the latter, do us all a favor—maybe start a GoFundMe for therapy sessions instead.
The Healing Hoax—Is It Just BS?
Let’s talk about this whole “healing” phenomenon. Half the time, “I’m healing” is just the new way of saying, “I don’t want accountability right now.” Translation: I want to keep doing whatever the hell I want without admitting I’m emotionally unavailable. And it works—because who’s gonna argue with someone’s healing journey? You’re the asshole if you say, “Stop healing, already!”
But here’s the reality—healing is not a hall pass for treating new partners like disposable emotional crutches. Imagine someone showing up to a marathon with a broken leg. They’re limping along saying, “Don’t worry, I’m healing.” Bro, sit your ass down. No one claps for the guy who joined the race half-cast up. They clap when you’re back on two good legs.
Statistics back this up: a 2022 survey from eHarmony reported that 64% of people who jump into a relationship right after a breakup admit they weren’t actually over their ex. That’s basically two-thirds of “healing daters” dragging old ghosts to your dinner table. Congrats—you’re paying for sushi while hearing about Chad, who “just didn’t appreciate her the way you do.”
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying people need to be perfectly fine before dating again. No one’s “fully healed.” If you’re waiting for that, you’ll die alone with your dog watching reruns of Friends. But there’s a big difference between carrying a scar and bleeding all over someone new. One shows resilience. The other ruins your white sheets.
So here’s the next interactive part: what’s your take? Should “healing” be an automatic dating red flag, like someone who lists their height “with shoes on” in their profile? Or is it fine as long as they own their mess and don’t dump it on you? Drop it in the comments—I wanna hear if you’re team “Nope” or team “I’ll take the gamble.”
When Healing Becomes Manipulation
This is where it gets dicey. Some people weaponize “healing” the same way kids fake sick days. They use it as a shield so they never have to give you what you need. You want consistency? “Sorry, I’m healing.” You want commitment? “Can’t right now, still healing.” You want them to Venmo you for their half of the DoorDash? “Yeah, about that… I’m prioritizing my self-care.”
Let’s call it what it is: bullshit. If you’re dating someone who uses “healing” as an excuse to avoid responsibility, congratulations—you’ve enrolled yourself in Emotional Gym Membership Hell. They keep charging you, but you’re not seeing any gains.
Think about it—if you’re with someone who’s perpetually “healing,” you’re basically in a holding pattern, like a plane circling the airport. They’ve got no ETA for landing, but you’re stuck burning your emotional fuel waiting for clearance. At some point, you gotta say, “Yo, tower, I’m running low on patience. Either land this thing or I’m flying somewhere else.”
And let’s not act like this is gender-exclusive. Guys pull this crap too. How many dudes have said, “I can’t get serious right now, I’m still healing from my last relationship”? Translation: “I wanna smash without responsibility, and ‘healing’ sounds better than ‘I’m emotionally lazy.’”
Want another stat? According to Pew Research, 51% of single adults say dating has gotten harder in the last 10 years, and one of the top reasons is people’s “lack of readiness for commitment.” Yeah—that’s the polite way of saying everyone’s still allegedly “healing.” So no, it’s not just in your head. Half the dating pool is doing laps in their healing kiddie pool, and you’re stuck trying not to drown.
So here’s my next question for you: how long do you think “healing” should take? Six months? A year? Until they stop subtweeting their ex? Or should there be a universal deadline, like milk expiration dates—after this point, either you’re healed or you’re just spoiled.
Okay, But Can It Ever Work?
Alright, let’s pump the brakes. It’s not all doom and gloom. Sometimes dating someone who’s still healing can actually work out—if (and it’s a big if) they’re self-aware and actually putting in the work. Key word: work. Not “manifesting,” not “journaling half a sentence and crying on TikTok,” but actually making progress.
Here’s where nuance matters. If you meet someone who admits they’re not 100% but they’ve got a therapist, they’re making changes, and they communicate like an adult—fine. That’s workable. Hell, maybe you both bond over your shared battle scars. That can actually make the relationship stronger, because you’re honest about the fact that you’re imperfect humans fumbling through the chaos.
But don’t confuse that with being someone’s rehab sponsor. You’re not here to fix their damage; you’re here to build something with them. Big difference. One drains you, the other grows you.
Think about it like working out with a buddy. If your partner’s “healing” is like spotting them at the gym, cool—you push them a little, they push you, everyone gets stronger. But if it’s like dragging their ass on your back while they scream, “I’m healing, bro!”—that’s not a workout, that’s torture.
Plus, let’s not ignore biology. Studies have shown that new love releases dopamine and oxytocin, which actually help people heal faster. So yeah, sometimes being in a relationship while healing isn’t a bad thing—it can accelerate the process. But only if both people know what they’re getting into.
So here’s the real question: do you think you’re capable of telling the difference between “healthy healing” and “hot mess healing”? Or are you just rolling the dice every time, hoping you don’t end up with the emotional equivalent of a fire hazard apartment? Be honest with yourself.
Final Shots and Reality Check
So should you date someone who’s still healing? Here’s my final verdict: if they’re genuinely working on themselves and not making you their unpaid therapist, maybe. If they’re dragging their baggage like Samsonite sponsors, hell no.
Relationships are hard enough without turning them into a halfway house for people who refuse to close chapters. You want a partner, not a patient. And if you’re constantly the guy handing out tissues while listening to endless ex rants, buddy—you’re not dating, you’re running an emotional daycare.
Here’s the truth bomb: no one’s perfect. You’re not perfect, I’m not perfect, and anyone who says they are probably has three burner phones and a secret family in Idaho. But there’s a difference between imperfection and being flat-out unavailable. Healing is fine—as long as it’s paired with accountability. Otherwise, you’re signing up for a one-way ticket to Frustrationville.
So, what do you think? Are you willing to risk it with someone still piecing themselves together, or do you see “healing” as code for “run”? Drop your thoughts in the comments—I want to hear the good, the bad, and the brutally honest.
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