Resilience in Progress
Tony Starks/Iron Man (Iron Man, 2008)
Resilience and I? We didn’t meet by choice. It wasn’t love at first sight. In fact, I met resilience through people like strangers, friends and mentors. I didn’t realise they were shaping me until much later.
The first time I truly met resilience was through my parents. Not in a grand, cinematic moment, but in the everyday ways they held things together. Bills paid, meals cooked, dreams buried quietly beneath responsibilities. They didn’t complain. They didn’t crumble in front of us. Watching them was my first lesson: you can be tired and still keep going.
Later, I met the version of resilience that comes wrapped in failure. I had applied for something I really wanted and didn’t get it. I was gutted. While I spiraled, a friend of mine, texted me: “So what? You try again. Cry for two days, then let’s plan your comeback.” His matter-of-fact tone shocked me. He didn’t pity me but believed in my bounce-back before I did. That taught me: resilience doesn’t mean never breaking down, it means rebuilding anyway.
I found resilience in a new country, surrounded by classmates from all over the world, each carrying their own stories, their own struggles and still showing up, trying, growing. Their quiet strength stayed with me.
Oh, and how can I forget my colleague, the one who had the audacity to be calm in the chaos. Deadlines raining down, emails flying, pressure peaking and he’d just sip his coffee and say, “One thing at a time.” Watching him taught me another layer of resilience: not everything deserves panic. Respond, don’t react.
Resilience didn’t come wrapped in grand motivational speeches for me. It came in late-night conversations, quiet gestures, and watching people survive things they never talk about.
But if I’m being honest, resilience is annoying
There were times I wanted to quit. Not because I wasn’t capable, but because I was tired of being the strong one. I wanted a break from learning lessons. I wanted someone to say, “You know what? It’s okay to just not deal today.” And sometimes, I gave myself that break. Because I learnt resilience is not about powering through every day. It’s also about knowing when to rest.
The world loves to romanticise it. You know those Instagram quotes that say stuff like “She remembered who she was, and the game changed”? Cute. But my game only changed after I had silent anxiety attacks in crowded metros, and still somehow showed up to work the next day. That’s not aesthetic, that’s grit.
And here’s the ironic twist: the more I failed, fell, fumbled, the stronger my bounce-back muscles got. Not because I wanted to be tested (trust me, I didn’t) but because life doesn’t wait for us to be ready. It just keeps moving. And slowly, I started moving with it.
I stopped fearing hard things because I’d been through worse.
I stopped romanticising perfect lives because I’d seen the beauty of messy comebacks.
I started trusting myself more, not because I was always right, but because I kept coming back to life even after it challenged me.
Resilience is not glamorous. It’s not always loud. Sometimes, it’s just whispering to yourself, “One more day,” and somehow making it through. Sometimes, it’s texting a friend, “I’m spiraling lol,” and laughing five minutes later. Sometimes, it’s choosing to try again when no one’s watching.
The truth? I didn’t become resilient alone. I became resilient by watching people survive heartbreak, disappointment, job loss, grief, self-doubt and still, still, find joy. They taught me that resilience isn’t a solo act. It’s community. It’s love. It’s courage. It’s ridiculous optimism in the face of reality.
So yes, being resilient is tough. It’s frustrating, it’s heavy, it’s absolutely not the vibe some days. But it’s the only way through. And every time you choose to keep going even in small, quiet, ordinary ways, you’re doing better than you think.
And if no one told you today: I’m proud of you for still being here. For still believing, still trying, still caring. That’s resilience.
And damn, it looks good on you