How Resilience Shapes Mental Health, Trauma Healing, and Motherhood

I have been working on this piece of writing since I started my blog, crazy right?! But sometimes it can take that long to get it right. The writing and deleting, the confidence and then the doubt. It can be such a rollercoaster wanting to share your thoughts and heart, while caring about getting it out there in a productive, meaningful way. 

I would love to hear from you in the comments, please let me know what you think!

Resilience is often held up as this glowing ideal. We hear phrases like "stay strong," "keep pushing," and "you’re so resilient" as if there’s an endless well of strength inside us. But what people don’t always talk about is how exhausting it can be. The weight of always having to bounce back, to pick up the pieces, to endure—it can feel like more of a burden than a strength.

Resilience, at its heart, is about survival. It’s about adapting, overcoming, and finding a way to keep going when life knocks us down. It’s something I’ve needed in my life, and I’m sure you’ve needed it too. It shows determination, perseverance, and strength. But when resilience becomes the expectation, rather than the exception, it can start to feel like a heavy cloak that we’re forced to wear.

So, what happens when resilience feels less like an empowering force and more like an unspoken rule? What happens when we start to feel like we’re the only ones holding it together, and no one checks in on us because they assume we’ll just handle it? That’s when it can become difficult to separate resilience from who we are—and that’s when the exhaustion sets in.

For years, I didn’t even know that I was being resilient, or that resilience was what was actually carrying me through. It wasn’t until later in life that I realized my nervous system had been operating in a constant state of survival. To me, resilience was just my normal state of being. When life threw me a curveball, I just kept going without stopping to think about what it was costing me.

But here’s the thing: while resilience can help us survive through anxiety, depression, and overthinking, it can also keep us stuck in a cycle where we’re too afraid to ask for help. Resilience can become a wall we hide behind, and eventually, we forget how to rest, how to let others in, and how to say, “I’m not okay.”

It’s hard to admit when we’ve reached our limit because we’ve been conditioned to push through. But the truth is, we can’t keep pushing forever. And it’s okay to let that wall crumble a little, to let others see the parts of us that need help, healing, and rest. We don’t always have to be the strong one. We’re allowed to fall apart sometimes and that’s where the real healing begins.

When you’ve been through trauma, resilience becomes something you rely on without even realizing it. It helps you survive the unthinkable, but it also keeps you in survival mode. And that’s where it can be tricky. Because while resilience keeps us going, it doesn’t always help us heal. We push through, we keep going, but sometimes we forget that healing isn’t just about surviving, it’s about finding peace.

Resilience can make us forget that it’s okay to sit with the pain, to feel the depth of what we’ve been through without rushing to fix it. It’s okay to take a step back and just let ourselves be. Healing isn’t linear, and it’s important to give yourself permission to stop and rest, to take a breath, and to say, “I need a moment.”

The truth is, there’s an emotional weight that comes with being resilient for so long. You might have pushed through more pain than anyone should have to, and you might have had to be strong when all you wanted was to fall apart. But you don’t have to keep carrying that burden alone. It’s okay to let others help, and it’s okay to ask for a break from the weight of it all.

Motherhood, in many ways, requires a level of resilience that can feel endless. The exhaustion, the pressure, the responsibility - it’s a constant pull that demands your strength even when you feel like you’re running on empty. There’s this expectation that as mothers, we must always be there for our children, always resilient, always strong.

But here’s the thing: Strength in motherhood isn’t about never breaking down, it’s about knowing when you need to rest. It’s about acknowledging that you don’t have to do it all, and it’s okay to lean on others. Motherhood doesn’t require you to be everything all the time, and it doesn’t make you weak to admit that you need help or a break.

Resilience is important, yes, but it’s also about balance. It’s okay to show up with vulnerability, to let your children see that it’s okay to rest, to feel, and to take care of yourself. After all, you can’t pour from an empty cup. True strength comes from understanding that asking for help and taking care of yourself is just as important as being there for others.

Resilience can be a beautiful tool, but it’s not something we should wear like armor all the time. It’s okay to set it down, to rest, and to simply be. Strength isn’t about never needing a break. It’s about knowing when to stop, when to ask for help, and when to let yourself just feel what you’re feeling without immediately rushing to fix it.

You don’t have to be “strong” all the time. You don’t have to constantly be resilient, constantly picking yourself up. True strength lies in giving yourself permission to rest, to ask for help, and to embrace softness. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your own. You’re allowed to be human.

You are more than the sum of what you’ve survived. You are allowed to take up space, to rest, to heal, and to simply be without constantly having to be strong.

Resilience has its good and its bad like anything else. It helps us survive, but it can also make us forget that survival isn’t the only goal. You deserve peace, rest, and softness, too. You don’t have to keep pretending you’re okay when you’re not. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself. You’ve survived so much, and you don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You’re allowed to let go, to ask for help, and to take time for yourself.

You are more than your pain, more than your struggles. And in those moments when you need to rest, when you need someone else to carry the weight for a while, that’s where your true strength lies.