When I left my abusive ex. I was told that there was NO way I could survive without him. When I went to a dealership to buy a car, I was told that the ONLY way that I could get a loan was to have my ex give me permission to have the loan. I refused & told them to keep the car. I took the bus to work & back every day until I could work out a better plan. I did finally work out a better plan. In time, it made me a LOT stronger person!!!

YES. I recently was trying to dip some KFC, in a gravy container that burned my fingers.
I just kept going back, accidentally pushing the chicken deeper in the hot gravy.

Then. I finally dug it out of the gravy, and my fingers are a bit more heat resistant now. And. I’m stronger, from the protein in the chicken.~

In a way, that’s been my whole life.

All I know is that I tried so hard and got so far, but in the end, it doesn’t even matter.
I had to fall to lose it all, but in the end, it doesn’t even matter.

I have been thinking about this great question since I first read it yesterday. My full answer would be too long for Fluther.

Put bluntly, my parents didn’t love me. It’s a short sentence with deep ramifications. When they finally discovered I was gay, they disowned me.

Childhood trauma led me to develop an addiction to alcohol and many long years of the misery concomitant with it. Luckily, I recovered.

Sobriety brought to the surface mental illness that was masked by alcohol and further misery and life on disability. Miraculously, I also recovered from that through lucky reaction to medication, years of meditation, careful diet, mild exercise, therapy, and good sleep.

I’m now the healthiest I’ve ever been. I’m stable physically, mentally, and emotionally. I work. I read good books. I listen to good music. I meditate. I have a loving partner.

I’m calm.

I abhor the trauma of my past, and memories of it anger me. I detest the label resilient. I shouldn’t have to be resilient. None of that trauma was necessary. Fuck the platitudes that say it made me strong! However, meditation has taught me about impermanence, and I know that what I have right now is truly, deeply lovely, and I wallow in it.