I used to think strength looked like silence. Like biting my tongue when I wanted to scream. Like staying in the fight just to prove I could take the punches, metaphorical or not. Like showing up with a smile when my world was falling apart. Like surviving… but barely living.
But lately, I’ve come to realize that I was confusing strength with suffering.
See, somewhere along the way, we were taught that being “strong” meant being hard. Tough. Stoic. That softness was weakness. That crying meant we were too emotional. That saying “I can’t” meant failure. That asking for help was something to be ashamed of.
But what if I told you that real strength doesn’t always roar?
What if strength whispers? What if it’s found in the quiet decision to choose yourself? In saying “no” when your body is screaming “please, not again.” In resting. In walking away. In starting over. In feeling everything deeply and not apologizing for it.
Healing has been my battleground. But it’s nothing like the war movies. There are no victory speeches. No crowds cheering. Just a lot of stillness. A lot of reflection. And sometimes, a lot of loneliness.
But I’ve learned that self-acceptance is a rebellion in a world constantly trying to convince you that you’re not enough. That you need fixing. That you’re either too much or not enough, depending on the day.
Some days, I am messy. Tired. Quiet. Some days, I am light and full and magnetic. I’ve stopped trying to force myself to be one version of me all the time. Because healing isn’t linear, and neither is identity.
Here’s the truth I’ve had to swallow: you don’t have to perform strength to be worthy. You don’t have to be okay all the time to be lovable. You don’t have to prove your pain to be believed.
You just have to show up for yourself—even on the days when showing up looks like crawling out of bed, brushing your hair, and breathing through the ache in your chest.
Being gentle with yourself in a world that profits off your insecurity? That’s power. Choosing peace over proving yourself? That’s power. Forgiving yourself for not knowing better before you did? That’s power too.
So if no one has told you lately—gentle is strong. Soft is strong. Feeling is strong. Choosing you is strong.
And you don’t owe anyone an explanation for the way you heal.
