I was talking to one of my best friends the other day about how much life has changed. Ten years ago feels like yesterday, and somehow, I caught myself thinking I should be further ahead. You know that voice—the one that whispers, “You should have it all figured out by now. Things were so good 5 years ago, what happened.” My friend stopped me mid-spiral and said, “I really admire your resilience.”

I didn’t say anything.

“That was a compliment, Jenn.”

I sighed. “I know. But it’s fucking exhausting. I’d rather be admired for softness.”

For the first time in a long time, I’ve been able to focus on myself and remember who the hell I am. And that feels good. But here’s the truth—I wouldn’t have gotten through the last five years, let alone ten years without resilience. It wasn’t something I was born with; it was something I built. Brick by brick, through small, daily habits: mindfulness, connection, movement, and, most importantly, rest. I had to take control of my well-being through intentional choices. And learning to say no. Which, if you grew up in a Midwest Lutheran household like I did, feels about as natural as setting a table without a casserole. It took a lot of unlearning, a lot of breaking old patterns.

But resilience isn’t just about pushing through. That’s the lie we were sold. The real work of resilience isn’t just enduring hardship and sucking it up—it’s healing from it. Much of our suffering comes from unprocessed childhood wounds, toxic relationships, and societal pressures that disconnect us from our authenticity. Real resilience isn’t about toughness—it’s about softness. It’s about learning to sit with our pain, acknowledge what we’ve buried, make peace with it, and slowly, patiently, reconnect with ourselves. It’s about grace. The kind that lets you forgive the past, but more importantly, forgive yourself on the days when you’re just not feeling resilient.

And here’s the sick joke of being human: our greatest growth, our deepest alignment with our soul, doesn’t happen when we’re comfortable. It happens when life cracks us open, when we have no choice but to face ourselves.

So, for those of you who are struggling with resilience, my wish for you is this: may you find grace. May you find softness. And may you know that resilience isn’t about how strong you are—it’s about how deeply you allow yourself to heal and be soft.