I remember a few months back, a person I work with suggested that people who have anxiety, or other similar conditions just lack resilience.  I disagree, I actually think I’m one of the most resilient people I know.  And that got me thinking, what does resilience actually mean to me?  I think everyone sees it differently, but I’ve been through a lot and I always come out stronger.  At least that’s how I see it!

Life doesn’t always give you a warning before it flips everything upside down. Some challenges creep up slowly, others hit you like a freight train. But either way, I’ve learned that I don’t stop, I deal with what’s in front of me, maybe break down for a day or two, and then I move on. Not because I’m trying to be strong, not because I’m trying to prove anything. I just do. That’s resilience for me, not a conscious effort, but a quiet force that’s always been there.

A Foundation of Strength

At 16, I met someone who, quite honestly, I wish I hadn’t. I didn’t realise it at the time, but meeting them would cause damage that I couldn’t ignore, even if I did try to bury it until my 30s. That experience left its mark, and it shaped the person I became in ways I didn’t fully understand until much later. But despite the lasting effects of that time in my life, I kept going. Life didn’t stop, and neither could I. It was during those years that I learned resilience, not by avoiding the pain, but by finding a way to push through it and move forward.   Perhaps, that wasn’t the healthiest approach, but I didn’t have a choice, I had to get through it, because otherwise what was there?

Turning Challenges Into Opportunities

In 2022 I lost a job I thought I loved. Spoiler, I didn’t, love it that is. But losing a job was devastating. It shook me, and for a day, I felt lost and unsure.  But as much as I wanted to dwell on it, I quickly realised that it had happened, and there was nothing I could do to change it.  I had to keep moving forward, not just for my own sense of self, but because I needed to earn money and keep my life on track.  So, after a month or so off to focus on legal things and PhD writing, I took on two jobs, just over a year later I pursued a new qualification, and pushed myself to finish my PhD.  Even as personal challenges piled up, I focused on what I could control, my goals, my work, and my personal growth. Setbacks didn’t define me; they only fuelled my determination to keep going.

And you know what, ultimately it worked out.

Family Struggles: Holding It Together When Everything’s Falling Apart

Throughout my PhD, I lost multiple grandparents, and my dad faced an incredibly difficult battle with cancer, losing a kidney, a leg, and his eyesight. It was a lot. At one point, I had to write an extension request for my PhD. Obviously, COVID had already delayed everything (what didn’t it delay?), but as I sat down to explain why I needed more time, I realised just how much I had been through in the past seven years.  It was overwhelming to see it all laid out in front of me, but I also realised something important, despite everything, I had kept going.  I didn’t have the luxury to fall apart.  Life was still happening.  So, I did what I always do, I processed what I could, let the rest settle, and kept moving.  I’m not saying I don’t miss my grandparents, I do, every day.  And sometimes I miss the man my dad was, because watching someone lose their independence is honestly horrific.  However, life doesn’t stop because of the things happening around you, and if my dad could carry on, well, so could I.

The ADHD Diagnosis: A New Challenge, A New Perspective

I had always known I was different, even before I received my ADHD diagnosis.  I didn’t quite understand what it was or why I struggled in certain ways, but I knew my brain didn’t quite work like everyone else’s.  Getting a diagnosis didn’t change me, it just gave me a name for what I’d always known.

ADHD explains a lot.  I can have massive emotional reactions to small things, yet when something huge happens, I just seem to handle it.  I deal with it, move through it, and carry on.  That might sound strange, but it’s how I’ve always been.  Even without medication, I’ve taken it upon myself to learn more about ADHD; how it affects me, and how I can work with it rather than against it.  That understanding has helped me be more patient with myself, but it’s also helped me see that part of my resilience might come from this difference.  The intensity I feel helps me move through things quickly, and while I still let things affect me, I don’t let them stop me.

Self-Awareness and Reflection: The Power of Knowing Yourself

Resilience isn’t something I consciously work on, it’s just who I am.  I don’t wake up and set out to be strong or stoic. I feel things deeply.  I cry, a lot.  I get overwhelmed.  But then I keep going. That’s always been my way.  I give myself a bit of space, a day or two to fall apart if I need to, but I don’t linger there.  Not because I force myself to “snap out of it”, but because something inside me just doesn’t let me stay stuck for long.  I pick myself up, brush myself off, and carry on.  It’s not a strategy.  It’s instinct.

I have a friend who will read this and probably think no she doesn’t, I pick her up I get her to carry on, and that’s somewhat true.  There is a person who has pulled me back more times than I can count. But my resilience was still there, sometimes asking for help and breaking down is the resilience.

Moving Forward: The Journey Continues

Looking back, I realise that my resilience isn’t about pushing through on purpose or choosing to be strong, it’s just that I’ve always done what needed to be done.  I don’t actively opt to soldier on, it’s an automatic response.  I don’t see myself as someone extraordinary or particularly tough.  I just live my life, take the hits, and keep moving.  That’s what resilience looks like for me: not always graceful, not always composed, but always forward.

I think in some ways my resilience is a direct result of my inability to slow down.  I don’t give myself time to dwell, and maybe that isn’t healthy either.

In Conclusion

Writing this I feel like I am saying that I am this perfect person, who just deals and moves on. I’m not, I just never stop long enough to crumble.  When I do crumble though, it’s chaotic, dramatic and should come with a warning!

Maybe I got my resilience from my parents, my dad could have easily given up on life, but he hasn’t, and slowly he is learning how to experience life in a different way. Just moving forwards.

Resilience, for me, isn’t loud or showy. It’s not some motivational slogan or carefully crafted mindset. It’s quiet. It’s stubborn. It’s sitting in the mess of it all and still managing to take the next step. Life hasn’t gone easy on me, but I haven’t let it break me. And I won’t.

Thanks for reading, K x