A quiet story of resilience, and the choice to keep showing up

A lot of people didn’t think I’d make it. Not in life. Not this far. Not even to something you could call mildly successful.

But here I am, showing up every single day for myself, for my life, and for everything I stand for.

I grew up in a life that was, simply put, hard. I’ll only speak from my perspective, but anyone who knew us back then would agree we had it bad.

We experienced homelessness, poverty, and instability. We didn’t always look poor, but we were struggling deeply and quietly.

I started working at 15. Small jobs, odd jobs, coaching students, trade shows etc. anything to make money.

After university, I went straight into work. There was no pause. No celebration. Just survival.

There was a moment in university I still remember.

A boy turned around and asked, “Is your father a cobbler?” and laughed at my worn, stitched-up sandals.

I was 17. A good student. And in that moment, I felt exposed.

No, my father wasn’t a cobbler. But we couldn’t afford new footwear, so we repaired what we had until we couldn’t anymore.

I didn’t say anything. But I carried it.

I was 20 when I thought my life was about to change. I had secured admission and a scholarship to the UK. But my dad fell sick. Every dollar went into his treatment. I didn’t go.

I don’t regret choosing my family. But I do regret not finding a way to still make it happen.

He passed away when I was 22.

My mother, my sister, and I had lived through years of extreme domestic abuse. I had just finished my master’s exams and was looking for work. I remember walking to an interview, feeling nothing not grief, not anger, just numb.

So when he died, I didn’t know how to feel. There was sadness but there was also relief.

And that made me question myself.

I got married at 23. It lasted eight years.

When it ended, I didn’t take time off. Not because I didn’t feel anything, but because continuing felt more familiar than stopping.

When I moved to Canada, I worked everywhere, restaurants, cleaning jobs, restoration work, while studying. I experienced homelessness again. There were moments of instability, and even job loss for my partner. I moved across provinces until I found stability in a bank call center role, working nights.

Fourteen years later, I’m still there, just at a very different level. I worked my way up relentlessly.

For a long time, the only person who consistently showed up for me… was me.

What does showing up even look like when you have nothing left?

I finally met someone a few years ago, and we got married.

I had my first baby at 40.

People had opinions, doubts.

But I had faith in myself and in my ability to keep writing my own story, once again. I had a rough pregnancy. An even rougher postpartum.

And even now, I show up, not perfectly, not effortlessly, but consistently.

It’s not that I didn’t have breaking points. I did.

In 2024, I stepped back from work for three months to take care of my mental and emotional well-being.

When I returned, nothing around me had really changed but something within me had.

My mindset shifted. My approach changed.

I came to recognize that I had been doing my absolute best all along.

Not a perfect best. Not an easy best. But the best I could, given everything I was carrying.

I’ve had moments where I’ve cried. Moments where everything felt like too much.

And what I’ve come to understand is that, eventually, I find a way to move… not because I’m strong all the time, but because staying stuck has never been an option I could live with.

People often talk about breaking points. I’ve had many.

But I’ve also had something else.. a quiet, steady belief that I would find a way through.

Not in one moment. Not in one decision. But over and over again.

And when I look back at everything – the instability, the loss, the rebuilding, the starting over, what stands out isn’t that I never struggled.

It’s that, somehow, I kept going.

I kept showing up.

And through it all… I’m still here.

And as I continue to write my story, I know I will keep showing up every single day.

 

For the ones who find themselves here after the world has quietened down…

maybe this feels familiar.