I am often asked: "How are you holding up?"
And I smile and remain silent. Because what can I say? That strength is not a choice, but a necessity?

I did not wake up in the morning with the thought: "Today I will be strong."
I simply got up and did what I had to do.
Even when it hurt. Even when I had no strength or support.
Especially when there was no support.

Strong? No. I simply had no other choice.

Someone had to calm the child when he cried.
Someone had to go to the doctor, solve problems, pay bills.
Someone had to control myself when I wanted to fall to the floor and scream.
And that "someone" was me.

Strength did not come from superhuman qualities.
It grew out of fatigue, tears, fear, and repeating: "I must."
When no one offered a shoulder, I learned to hold myself together.

This is not a story about how to be strong, it's a story about how to survive without losing yourself.
About how to build a new self from the fragments of loss.
About how there is more in each of us than meets the eye.

I'm not saying it's easy. But I know from experience: we are the strongest not when we are applauded, but when no one sees.
When we cry in the kitchen, then we wash our faces and move on.

Today I don't apologize for my fatigue.
I'm not ashamed of my scars.
And I know for sure: I am strong.
Because I remained myself, even when it was the hardest.