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.
When I was younger, I learned to navigate life on my own—that meant figuring out how to become who I wanted to be without the support of those who were supposed to make me feel safe.
One by one, I lost them—my parents, great-grandpa, aunt, grandma, and uncle—the voices that were supposed to keep me grounded, hold me in place. Grief, let’s say, became the background music of my growth. I know that’s crazy to say, but it was the only thing that showed me what grit was capable of doing, and that was shaping me into who I am today. In pain and silence, I learned how to survive. How to show up anyway. How to be strong, not because I wanted to be, but because I had to be.
Fast forward to getting older, life didn’t get easier; I just got better at suppressing the pain from my childhood, hoping I’d never have to face it again. Through significant life changes, including love and motherhood, I found a way to feel joy again, even though heartbreak was knocking at the door. Life had been incredible, and the love I’d received from my husband and baby was unfathomable, but I still faced challenges from the pain that stripped me down. But, somehow, I always managed to keep rising—again and again. Not because I felt I had to be brave, but because I believed I had a purpose. At that moment, when I felt the power of purpose, I knew that if I continued to rise and push through the unresolved pain, I’d spiral deeper into unhappiness and never fully embrace the life I have now. So, I decided to heal and change—change for myself and my family—so I could become the person I aspired to be and the person they needed.
Through all this, the biggest lesson I’ve learned is that resilience isn’t always loud. It’s not about pushing through or pretending everything’s okay. It’s the quiet choice to keep going. To heal what no one sees. To rebuild—brick by brick—when no one is witnessing.
This blog is my space to honor that journey, to speak for the girl I was, to write for the woman I’m becoming, and to hold space for anyone who knows what it’s like to grow through the unthinkable. Because you don’t have to have everything figured out to be resilient; you have to keep showing up. And if you're here, you already are.
Welcome to The Resilience Journal.
Let’s keep rising.
Love,
MM
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