Tough Chica

That’s what I called a friend of mine who has a heavy load to carry right now…. She responded saying she didn’t feel tough at all: she’s scared and overwhelmed. “I just keep thinking that today is going to be better than yesterday (over and over again)”

Boy howdy, do I understand that! People say such things to me, too (I’m going through a rough divorce), and I can’t help but wonder if they’re blind to how desperately I struggle sometimes. Or maybe they’re just being nice, like Miracle Max, with his smile, wave, and well wishes to a Mostly Dead hero and his crew: “Have fun stormin’ da castle!”

And yet when I said she was tough, I really meant it. I can see it. Anyone who knows her can. So I defended my assertion by telling her that being tough and feeling tough are two separate things.

Maybe I need to listen to my own advice.

Weight lifters feel like jello, no doubt, as they push through their limits, but they still know they’re strong. And with the help of their trainers and spotters, and a good dose of rest and recuperation, they just keep getting stronger.

I’m sure it helps them to know that their burdens are both purposely self-inflicted easily quantified. I don’t have that, but I do know my trainer knows what He’s doing and is ready to spot me whenever I need it, as well as occasionally point out for me how far I’ve come.

Maybe I’m a tough chica, after all. As is my friend. Maybe we’re all much stronger than we’d think.