“Be strong,” I was recently told. As though I was somehow being weak.
I loved. I cared. I laughed. I lived with my whole heart. I exposed my sorrow. I embraced my tears. I wore my heartbreak. I bled. This is what it means to be alive. There is strength here – in being authentic and real. There is strength in being truly open and letting it all hang out. There is strength in honesty and valuing your own vulnerability. There is strength in persevering and fighting for what you believe in, even if you end up failing and falling down in a heap. These things take great courage and dedication to yourself.
Weak? I don’t think so friends.
Most of all, there is strength in getting back up again and shaking off the dust after the explosion. To get punched in the gut yet walk away, eyes wide open. To see possibility when the next chapter is being re-written.
It takes a true hero to step away from situations that no longer feed you, no matter how much you want them to and no matter how good they happen to feel. Believing and rebuilding requires incredible inner strength. In fact, saying “I choose me” and starting over is the greatest indication of strength. (Even when your voice is wobbly and you’re swimming in an ocean of tears.)
I only know strength. No coaching required.