There are moments when the shadows of the past feel heavier than the steps I’m trying to take forward.
Moments when the echoes of those who doubted, dismissed, or even hoped for my downfall whisper a little too loudly in my mind.
But here’s the truth I know deep down:
I am not defined by the people who tried to break me.
Their bitterness, their envy, their cruelty — none of it is my identity.
I am defined by the way I kept going.
By the mornings I got up when grief pulled me under like a riptide.
By the dreams I refused to let die even when my heart was cracked wide open.
By the moments I chose hope when it would have been easier to give up.
By the quiet ways I kept loving — the world, the work, the people around me — even when love felt risky.
I am defined by the way I built a life out of rubble, stone by stone, soul by soul.
By the laughter I still found.
By the stories I still chose to write.
By the spaces I carved out where others could feel safe, seen, and valued.
And maybe, just maybe, you are too.
Maybe you’re carrying scars that no one sees.
Maybe you’re moving through the world with a resilience so fierce and quiet it looks like grace.
If so, know this:
The ones who tried to break you didn’t get to write your ending.
You did.
You are.
You are not their cruelty.
You are your courage.
You are not their abandonment.
You are your faithfulness.
You are not their smallness.
You are your infinite capacity to dream bigger.
So keep going.
Keep building.
Keep loving.
Keep dreaming.
You are becoming something extraordinary.
And no one — no shadow from the past, no whisper of doubt — can take that away from you.
Categories: identity, Leadership, mental health, Psychology, society, women
psychologistmimi 
You must have met me somewhere in life! I dated my husband for seven years (ninth grade through college (he was four hours away for four years except summers). Everything was wonderful. We married and moved to a seminary for him to earn his masters and then doctorate.
I grew up in a loving family and loved life and people. My husband’s family was quite different. Stress mounted for him and twelve hours night shifts detracted from my sleep. He began to change, called me names, criticized how I did things, started out okay but then he got angrier and more frustrated as time went on.
My family was a loving family. I only heard my parents fussing three times! I didn’t know how to argue without just bursting into tears.
Well after he developed diabetes, while still drinking sugary soft drinks, he had a stroke, recovered after three months but was still irritable. He died at 59 from heart failure. An MRI showed white patches (mini-strokes?) on his brain.
I want to believe the diabetes was what messed his brain up. But it took me nine years to get my head together and make a stand! I became wiser, stronger, more confident and learned what I needed to learn to sell our house and buy a condo. I am very happy with my life now.
What you just wrote describes me to the core! Thank you!
Joyful2bee@gmail.com
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So Inspirational
Dear Miriam iNDeeD
The Way i “See” Life
Too “Hit Me With Your
Best Shot” i Am A Weed
i Break
Through
Asphalt
And Flower
i Shall Only
Return Flower
And Rise More
With SMiles Of
KiNDNeSS MaKinG
Asphalt
mY FRiEnD
iN Crimes of
Colorful JoY
JusT ANoTHeR
Rainbow On The
Highway That’s Heaven
Now
No TiMe To
Travel JusT
CoLoR A World New🌈
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