Redefining Strength

Do you FEEL strong when you are physically sick or are in a crisis? Most of us don’t, but that’s often when we are told that we are—just for enduring whatever trial we are facing at that moment. But is strength really strength if all we are doing is enduring? 

“You’re so strong.”

Have you ever heard those words? Or, have you ever said them? Gulp. I have. Even though I never meant that a person was untouched by their circumstances (or somehow endured them with a quiet strength), I never considered that’s how it comes across—until recently. 

To be honest, I’ve been in full crisis mode for the past week. I rushed my husband back and forth to the emergency room five times and even had him admitted to the hospital to try to manage the pain from the latest reaction to his cancer treatments. In the process, I was repeatedly exposed to fluorescent lights which trigger my seizures. Add no sleep and high stress to the mix, and it quickly became a dangerous situation—for me. 

I’ve told (and often said to others) that if we don’t take care of ourselves, then we can take care of others. But I didn’t, and I broke. Someone yelled at me for leaving my car too long in a loading zone yesterday and I completely lost it. For 15 minutes, I let myself cry uncontrollably in the privacy of my car—until I had to gather what little strength I had (if any) to walk back into the doctor’s office and “be strong” for my husband. 

To be honest, I didn’t feel strong in that moment. I had no strength left. I was dangerously crumbling and in a bad place. I just didn’t want to admit it—to myself or to others. 

I had no strength left. I was dangerously crumbling and in a bad place. I just didn’t want to admit it. 

My counselor reminded me a few days ago that we were never meant to carry our burdens alone. There’s no shame in asking for help when we need it and letting others hold us up with their strength. So why don’t we? Why do we (i.e. me) feel like I have to be strong all the time? Then a co-worker also reminded me that it’s okay to not be okay. I had to say that to myself multiple times to let it sink in: It’s okay NOT to be strong all the time. 

In those moments (and let’s face it, we ALL have them), we are simply surviving—one day at a time, sometimes one hour or minute at a time. And that is okay. That’s when we need each other—that’s why we need each other. 

Truth be told, I wasn’t planning to share this story. I was too embarrassed. I felt as if I had failed—myself, my husband, the woman who reprimanded me … But then, I realized—I had to share it. Being vulnerable gives other people the permission to be honest too—with themselves and with others. 

Sometimes I wonder if we need to redefine “strength.” Being strong doesn’t mean that we are unmoved physically or emotionally in a trying situation. We’d have to be dead (emotionally) not to feel anything when we are stressed, sick, or harmed. But for some reason, that’s how we view strength—being about to stand tall (like a lighthouse) when the winds and seas threaten to beat us down. We expect ourselves to be “strong” to help others who are lost in the waves, get things done, or ______ (fill in the blank). At least, that’s what I often expect of myself. 

Sometimes strength is simply surviving when life gets tough. It’s waking up in the morning and facing another day—allowing ourselves to feel what we need to feel in that moment. And, it’s listening to our bodies about what we can (or can’t) manage and sometimes saying “No, I can’t right now.” I’ll say it again (especially to myself), THAT’S OKAY. 

I’m beginning to understand that real strength is shown in vulnerability. When life breaks us down, I believe God somehow puts the pieces of our lives back together in a beautiful mosaic that glistens with hope. Yes, it’s less physically powerful image than a lighthouse, but for me, mosaics carry a much greater image because they were once broken. Each piece somehow carries meaning. 

We can’t put the pieces back on our own. We needs others to help us survive, heal, and move forward—that is the power of community. 

We needs others to help us survive, heal, and move forward—that is the power of community. 

Maybe we start by being honest about what we are going through at any given moment—to ourselves and to others. That level of honesty takes bravery and massive amounts of trust in those we confide in to help us rebuild. Maybe that’s real strength.

And what about our creativity? I haven’t mentioned that once in this post. Well, it has a place too. I believe that we have to learn how to be vulnerable in our personal lives before we can begin to take that vulnerability and share it through our writing and art. That’s what makes creative work so powerful and—strong. And that’s the strength we can pass on to others.

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