Apr 23, 2025
After years of sitting with people in therapy—teens paralyzed by perfectionism and FOMO, parents drowning in responsibilities, couples stuck in the same fight—I’ve discovered something surprising: The strongest people aren’t those who never fall apart. They’re the ones who’ve learned how to put themselves back together.
What makes them different isn’t luck or superhuman willpower. It’s simple (not always easy) habits anyone can practice. The kind that turn “I can’t handle this” into “I’ve handled hard things before.”
Life loves to blindside us—failed plans, unexpected losses, curveballs no one saw coming. While it is natural to instinctively rage against the unfairness (a completely human reaction), resilient people ask a different question once the initial wave passes: “How can I work with this?” I’ve watched clients transform overwhelm into action just by shifting from "Why me?” to "What’s within my control?” It’s the difference between being dragged by the current and learning to swim with it.
Goals, with sharpened tools in our coping tool boxes reveal another key difference. “I want to be happier” floats in the abstract, but "I’ll call Sarah when I feel lonely” or “I’ll pause before responding when angry”—these are steps you can actually take. The most progress I’ve seen happens when people are aware of their intentions, using them as small, visible signs pointing the way forward.
Discipline gets misunderstood too. So many clients believe it means self-punishment; that they must grind through exhaustion or deny all pleasure. But the mentally strong people I know treat it like a sacred promise to themselves. Disciplined people know that the choices they make in the present have positive effects for their future selves.
Most people get stuck trying to control how they feel, instead of focusing on how they respond to those feelings.
I often tell clients that it’s totally okay to feel all the feels—anger, anxiety, sadness, joy—none of them are “wrong.” Emotions shift, like the weather. You wouldn’t ignore a storm warning, but you also wouldn’t let it define who you are. Same with emotions: notice them, learn from them, prepare if you need to—but remember, they’re just passing through.
Feelings like anxiety or sadness aren’t flaws. They’re signals. Anxiety might be saying, “This matters to me.” Sadness might be whispering, “I need to slow down and grieve.” Mentally strong people don’t ignore their feelings—they listen to them without letting those feelings take the wheel.
And yes, we all mess up sometimes. But resilience isn’t about never failing—it’s about what you say to yourself afterward. One teen I worked with said something that stuck with me: after bombing a math test, she didn’t say, “I’m bad at math.” She said, “I used the wrong strategy.” That’s the kind of mental strength that shifts everything—from “I’m broken” to “I can fix this.” That tiny change turns failure into a stepping stone, not a stop sign.
Here’s another thing: mentally strong people guard their energy. In a world that constantly praises being busy, they treat their time and energy like it’s valuable—because it is. They notice when scrolling leaves them feeling drained, or when certain people or situations suck the life out of them. One client of mine calls it her “emotional nutrition.” She’s just as thoughtful about what she feeds her mind as she is about what she eats.
And here’s the most freeing truth: mentally strong people aren’t flawless superheroes. They’re just regular folks who’ve learned to laugh at their missteps, take breaks without guilt, and see personal growth as a journey, not a performance.
If you’re thinking, “I could never be that strong,” consider this: you already are. Every time you choose rest over burnout, curiosity over criticism, or courage over comfort, you’re building resilience. As Brené Brown puts it, “We can choose courage or we can choose comfort, but we can’t have both.”
Strength isn't about being unbreakable. It’s about knowing how to mend what breaks with care and compassion. And that’s a skill you’re already practicing—one choice at a time.