Moments of discomfort and vulnerability often make me feel weak. And I hate feeling weak. And the only thing I hate more than feeling weak is admitting that I feel weak to myself and to my boys, who, quite lovingly, albeit angrily responded with: “You’re not weak. It took a strong person to do what you did. Our job is to tell you that despite feeling this way. You are strong.” And, when I told them about my loss, they replied with: “Well let me start by saying that we love you very much, and that you’re one of the most amazing women I’ve been given the chance to call my friend”, to which the other replied with “This. Many, many times.” Which, naturally made my cry even more than I already was because how friggin’ precious is that???
I don’t think society does a very good job in talking about weaknesses. Or flaws. We’re constantly bombarded with memes or slogans or songs that talk about strength—which is good, but strength is often defined in juxtaposition to the negatively charged noun of “weakness”. Why does that term deserve such a negative connotation? Why do we hate feeling weak? And like, why don’t we talk about it more? Since society doesn’t talk about weakness, I will. I will start by explaining why I think it’s a good thing and why I think it’s important to talk about.
Weaknesses are often associated with deficiencies. Flaws. Bad qualities like: helplessness, failure, faults, shortcomings, and vulnerability. All the “bad” things we ought not to be and all the qualities we ought to avoid. But that’s just not right. Sometimes, we need to feel weak and we need to feel vulnerable and we need to be uncomfortable. Sometimes, we need to feel fear. We need to take risks. We need to feel exposed and uncertain. Sometimes, these feelings are good. Let me tell you why.
Character defining moments are not measured by the amount, degree, or magnitude of any self-perceived failures or weaknesses we may experience or feel. Rather, character defining moments are measured by how we choose to respond to difficult and seemingly impossible situations. In other words, we choose to become who we are by how we respond to our weaknesses. We need to feel “weak” in order to feel “strong”. We need to “fail” in order to “succeed”. We need to feel off-balance in order to come into balance. We need to feel weak in order to make the necessary changes to grow. Why? Because weakness, more often than not, evolves into strength. At least, for me it does.
I think that it is equally important to have candid discussions about weaknesses as it is to have candid discussions about strength. When we talk about strength, we should naturally talk about weaknesses. And we should instinctively talk about how to evolve our weaknesses into strengths because that process is what is important. Strength isn’t something all people naturally have; strength is often something that people need to build to from their weaknesses. It’s certainly that way for me and I’m not, by any means special, so I know that this is likely the way for a lot of people too. And for anyone who reads this blog who is struggling, or coping, or healing, or feeling weak and I don’t know, maybe stuck? Know that I’m with you. You’re not alone. And you’re not actually stuck. It may feel that way, but I promise you, you’re not. And to be honest with you, you’re probably not even weak. You just feel that way. And that’s okay. That’s normal. That means you’ve been granted the opportunity to challenge that weakness by transforming it into your own version of strength. Whatever that looks like. Because what strength may look and feel like for me on one day is very different from what it may look and feel like on another day. Or even within the same day. Like today: today’s morning version of strength was moving forward with my morning routine of coffee and meditation. Today’s afternoon version of strength was writing this post. Tonight’s version of strength was picking myself up off my bathroom floor after an inconsolable crying session that lasted for nearly an hour while listening to the same sad song on repeat. It’s chill. Don’t worry.
Most days, I feel like the strong, independent woman/badass queen I know I am. But lately, I have felt like a weak little bitch who cries at the most inappropriately, random times, who gets triggered by literally nothing. Again, I know that those feelings are okay—and like, super normal—because my character is not defined by those temporary moments of weakness. My character is defined by how I respond to those temporary moments of weakness. For me, feeling “weak” or helpless is actually a mental invitation for myself to grow and become better. It’s an invitation to transform that feeling of weakness into the strength that sometimes gets buried deep inside me. In those moments where I feel like a human trash bag and walking dumpster fire, I am challenged to consciously choose to “put on a vest with an S on my chest" and be the superwoman my girl Alicia Keys sings about. (Suuuper fucking corny, but also, super important). Because I know that every time I may feel weak, I’m actually getting stronger. Every time I feel discomfort, I’m actually growing. Every time I find myself off-balance, I’m actually preparing myself to come back into balance and be the bad bitch I know I usually am.
The preparation to come back into balance, the evolution from weakness to strength, and the transformation of discomfort into comfort is a process that literally no one talks about, ever. And that’s wrong. We need to talk about our struggles more and how we each deal with them and what exactly that process looks like because if one person is going through it, then others for sure are as well. My process may not necessarily be the same as all of yours because I’m low-key neurotic and high-key dramatic, but getting through the day-to-day heartache of processing, feeling, and evolving is a highly individualized process that needs to be talked about. Similarly, weakness also needs to be talked about. We all have strengths because we all have weaknesses. And the reason we have those strengths is because we went through the heart wrenching, difficult, and grueling process of evolving our temporary moments of weakness into strengths. That process is almost always sad. That process is almost always messy; BUT, it is the messiness of that process that intricately weaves the most interesting, unique, and beautiful stories of the incredible people we often look up to who seem to epitomize and radiate strength.
Straight up, this blog was never intended to be so sad. I promised giggles, but there hasn’t been many giggles lately. And that sucks because I’m normally very funny. But I hope that this raw collection of my inner monologues about processing and healing through my sacred practices of yoga, meditation, and therapy have been somewhat helpful or entertaining or inspiring to some of you going through the same sort of things I am. Though I have to admit, each time I find myself in this space, I feel like I made zero progress from the last time I was here. But that’s simply not true. I’ve grown a lot over the past year and a half. But I’ll talk about that another time.
For now, I need to continue choosing to put on my superwoman vest because I am a superwoman. And I know that I am because I refuse to say no to opportunities that invite me to transform my feelings of being “weak” into strength. Because, like I said, I hate feeling weak. I’d much rather do the necessary mental and emotional labour to build strength because that is ultimately how my character is defined.
And PS to anyone reading this: that’s also how your character is defined too.