it seems i’ve heard the phrase, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” a few times again lately.
my first thought: well, it might make you stronger. but it might make you weaker, or sadder, or happier, or more complete, or more open, or closed, or a multitude of other things on the way to strength. the point is, it makes you.
so, what doesn’t kill us makes us. and frankly, what kills us in the end might make us too, but i leave that mystery to be.
when i open that book of my life and turn the pages carefully, allowing myself to read each chapter and sentence and phrase, i know it has all made me. every strong, weak, joy filled, desperate, settled, unsure, confident, scared, steady, shaky part of me.
and it’s quite remarkable to reclaim it all.