Can I tell you something that’s continually kept me from living soft and strong?
The myth of toughness.
The myth of toughness says your feelings are a liability and your weaknesses are best hidden. The myth of toughness says that you must be strong, and ou cannot be soft. But this is not the biblical, kingdom picture of resilience, perseverance, and strength. I’m talking about the lie that says if you’re really strong, you won’t feel it. You won’t cry. You won’t fall apart. You’ll keep moving, keep producing, keep showing up as if nothing ever hurt you.
I’ve bought into this lie at different points in my life: sometimes knowingly, sometimes not. I’ve told myself I didn’t have time to grieve. I’ve believed that if I let myself collapse, I wouldn’t be able to get back up. I’ve kept moving and called it maturity. I’ve stayed silent and called it strength.
But you know what I’ve learned?
Toughness and resilience are not the same thing.
Toughness resists. Resilience bends and comes back.
Toughness suppresses. Resilience metabolizes and grows.
Toughness says, “Don’t let them see you cry.” Resilience says, “I cried out and God met me there.”
According to a 2023 study from the American Psychological Association, nearly 60% of adults say they regularly suppress their emotions in order to appear strong. Among women, that number is even higher, especially for those in caregiving roles, leadership positions, or faith communities. We’ve confused “strength” with stoicism and “resilience” with not needing help.
But that’s not how God made us.
We are not invincible. We are not robots. And most importantly: We were not created to heal in isolation or perform our way through pain.
This is the heartbeat of my upcoming book: What Comes Next. It’s a 40-day experience of healing for those who have experienced heartbreak, brokenness, and burnout. It is not a call to toughness, it’s an invitation to break and let God meet you there.
You’re not called to be tough. You have permission to be human, because you are. And Jesus knows exactly how to care for humans: especially the hurting kind.
If you’re in a hard season, a healing season, or one of those middle seasons where you’re not quite broken but not quite whole, here’s your permission:
Feel it. Speak it. Be honest. Be soft. Let the tears fall.
That softness? That honesty?
That’s strength.
This resonates with me so much! As a young athlete I was taught not to show emotion on the court. Then I grew up feeling like I had to hold it all together as the oldest child. Carried it into adulthood: performance-driven nonprofit leadership, remain tough in the midst of divorce and grief and on and on. So glad Christ calls us to freedom in all that striving and stuffing of emotions. Resilience, surrender, feel the feelings while being gentle with myself is goal now.
So good!