But I didn't fail. Life just isn't linear. Some days I'm strong and untouchable. Other days, something small triggers me and I'm right back there. Some weeks I'm healing beautifully. Other weeks I'm just surviving. And all of it is normal. All of it is part of the process.

Strength isn't about never falling apart. It's about knowing you can fall apart and still put yourself back together. It's about accepting that healing spirals—you don't move forward in a straight line, you circle back sometimes, you learn the same lessons multiple times from different angles.

The stoic part of me used to judge myself for this. I thought a strong person should heal faster, should be more solid, should have it all figured out by now. But real strength is gentler than that. Real strength is being patient with yourself even when you're tired of waiting.

I'm still healing. I'll probably always be healing in some way. And instead of seeing that as failure, I see it as proof that I'm alive and I'm growing. That's the kind of strength I'm building now. 🤍