Yes, I Am Stronger Than I Used to Be, But It Cost Me

Posted on December 9th, 2025

We often celebrate strength as if it's a prize won effortlessly. We admire those who have overcome adversity and emerge as powerful, resilient versions of themselves. We see the final product—the person who can handle anything—and rarely consider the price they paid to get there.

I've become that person. I am stronger than I used to be. I can navigate storms that once would have capsized me. I can handle disappointment with a composure that surprises even myself. My resilience is a shield I now wear, but it's not a trophy. It's armor forged in fire, and its creation came at a significant cost.

The Price of Resilience

Strength isn't built in a vacuum. It’s a byproduct of enduring hardship. Each time you survived a moment that felt like it would break you, you gained a piece of that strength. But what did those moments take from you?

For me, it cost me my naivete. The belief that life was a gentle, linear path was stripped away, replaced by the harsh reality that a single moment can change everything. It cost me a part of my innocence, forcing me to see the world not just as a place of wonder, but also as one of profound pain.

It cost me people. Some relationships couldn't withstand the person I became. My newfound boundaries felt like rejection to those accustomed to my old, people-pleasing self. My honesty, once muted, became a force that some couldn't handle. The connections I lost were not failures; they were casualties of my growth.

It cost me a lightness of spirit. There’s a weight to knowing what you’ve been through. While I can find joy, a part of me remains ever-vigilant, carrying the memory of past struggles. The carefree, unburdened version of myself is gone, replaced by someone who is more cautious, more aware of the fragility of peace.

A New Kind of Strength

This isn't a complaint. It's an acknowledgment of a complex truth. I wouldn't trade the strength I have now. It’s an earned wisdom that guides me. It allows me to show up for myself and others in ways I couldn’t before. But it's important to be honest about the journey.

My strength is not a sign that I am impenetrable. It's proof that I was broken and had to learn how to put myself back together, piece by painful piece. It's a testament to the quiet, internal battles that no one else saw.

So, yes, I am stronger. But remember that this strength isn’t a gift. It’s a result of having to fight battles that I never asked for. If you see someone who is remarkably strong, honor the battles they have endured. Their resilience is beautiful, but it's a beauty born from the wreckage.