If you were strong...

I hate that stomach-drop, heart-in-your-mouth, tongue-goes-dry moment. There's a small moment of hope before it happens, then nerves bundled in pain or heartache wash over you like the biggest wave you have ever seen, disregarding your hope. Suddenly you're washed out to sea by something you said would never sway you again. You're hurt by something you thought you had murdered and buried, something you had sworn was thrown out for good. The worst part of this small moment of your life is that it's usually followed by the whisper of weakness. Because if you were strong, it says, you wouldn't be struggling to keep your head above water; you'd still be standing on the shore.

Do you know how the strong become strong, though? If you look closely, their hands are covered in calluses, their hearts are made up of pieces glued back together, and they are full of holes stitched back together. Do you know where those holes came from? They came from wounds, from places where life threw something at them and they didn't dodge fast enough. Their hearts were carelessly dropped, stepped on as people walked out the door. Their hands  and knees were scraped up by catching themselves. Same as you; same as anyone.

The difference between being strong and being weak comes in the moments, days, weeks, months, and years after you fall. Are you going to stay on the ground to be kicked around? Or are you going to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and put yourself back together before the next blow? Because life will hand you other blows. What makes you strong is refusing to let it rule you. What makes you strong is swimming against the current, back to the shore.

It's like running: you will be sore, and you can let the soreness persuade you to never run again; or you can keep running and get stronger. You can get hurt, you can fight, you can be persuaded to never fight again, or you can keep fighting the pain.

One day, you'll wake up, and you'll realize that you're healed. Your stomach won't drop. Your heart won't jump. Your tongue won't dry up. You will be full of hope and you will say, "I am strong."