—where I write about:
Mental health and the not-so-linear journey back to peace
Fitness, not for aesthetics, but for reclaiming strength and sanity
Motherhood in all its magic, madness, and quiet identity shifts
Relationships that stretch, shake, or save us
And those deep life thoughts that wake you up at 3AM and rewrite how you see everything
I started this blog because I know what it feels like to lose yourself while holding everything together.
To be the strong one. The quiet one. The one who keeps showing up anyway.
If that’s you too—then you're home here.
This is your reminder that healing doesn’t always look like progress.
That strength often hides in silence.
And that resilience? It’s not about never breaking.
It’s about learning how to rebuild again and again—with grace, grit, and a little more soul every time.
Welcome to the journal.
You’re not alone anymore.
This is a question I have been contemplating a lot lately because life doesn't always present people with ideal circumstances. When those circumstances arise, it's easy to feel as though you are simply "dealing" with them. However, in reality, you might just be tucking them away to be pulled out during other life events.
Resilience didn't develop overnight. I had to endure pain to let it shape me, test me, and finally be forged in the fire after being told to smile through the smoke.
Hi, I’m MM—the voice behind The Resilience Journal.
I’ve lived through the kind of loss that rearranges your soul.
I lost both of my parents in back-to-back years.
Then my grandpa. My aunt. My grandma. My uncle.
One by one, the people who made me feel safe as a child were gone.
Grief introduced itself early in my life—and never really left.
But somewhere in the middle of the ache, I found something else:
Strength.
Not the kind that looks like having it all together,
but the kind that gets back up when you don’t know how.
The kind that shows up again… and again… and again.
Fitness became one of the first places I remembered what strength felt like in my body.
It gave me something to hold onto when everything else was slipping away.
And over time, it became a form of healing—of reclaiming power, purpose, and peace.
Motherhood expanded that healing even more.
It cracked me open and rebuilt me again—this time softer, but stronger.
Now, I live for the honest moments:
The ones that are messy and real and painfully beautiful.
Here at The Resilience Journal, I write about all of it:
Grief. Growth. Faith. Fitness. Love. Life as it is—not as it looks online.
Because if I’ve learned anything…
It’s that resilience isn’t loud.
It’s quiet, daily, sacred work.
And it’s never too late to become someone you’re proud of