Journal & Connections Reflections— Strength
- Deborah Vick
- Feb 4
- 3 min read
Join me as I discuss my response to today's Journaling & Connections Reflections Prompts
How do I define strength in a way that honors my energy, values, and wellbeing?
Strength is the concept I struggle with the most.
Despite pain that is constant and fluctuates dramatically, despite the hours each day I spend working on myofascia release simply to function, strength often feels like it evades me. Some days more than others—but truly, it feels like my Achilles’ heel.
When I try to imagine strength differently, I see it as a three-dimensional, almost floating form—something I can slowly turn, rotate, and examine from every angle. I can picture it clearly. I can even imagine spinning it gently on its axis, studying it from all perspectives. And yet, doing so feels conflicting. I can see it… but defining it in a way that truly honors my energy, my values, and my wellbeing remains difficult.
Still, if I allow myself to fully explore this floating form of strength—if I look into its crevices and linger there—I begin to notice something important.
I find strength in my ability to persevere.
I find strength in showing up on days when all I want is to curl up under the blankets and disappear. I find it in working piece by piece toward my goals, rather than forcing myself to leap. I find it in honoring my journey exactly as it is.
My strength lives in celebrating the smallest achievements, instead of waiting for the big ones to validate me. It lives in setting goals that are achievable, compassionate, and realistic. It lives in recognizing that strength comes from within—not from comparison.
This last realization is especially important.
It is so easy to lose ourselves by measuring what we can do against what others are able to accomplish. But my strength is not defined by any other moment, or any other person. It is defined by what I can do in this moment. And honoring that truth supports my wellbeing.
When I honor my energy, my strength shows itself differently.
It shows up when I choose to step back.
When I reduce activity without guilt.
When I ask for help.
When I choose gentle movement.
When I respect my limitations instead of fighting them.
This, too, is strength.
What forms of strength do I practice that may not always be visible to others but deeply matter to me?
Many of the forms of strength I practice are not loud. They are not easily observed, measured, or praised. Yet they are the ones that matter most to me—and the ones that sustain me.
Some of these forms of strength are already woven into how I move through my days: asking for help when I need it, acknowledging changes in my strength without judgment, and allowing myself to name challenges honestly instead of minimizing them. There is strength in recognizing where I am, rather than forcing myself to be where I think I should be.
I practice strength when I celebrate moments of capacity, no matter how small. And I practice it again when I gently stretch those moments—carefully, intentionally—so their benefits ripple outward without costing me more than I can give. Just as important, I practice strength when I honor myself on the days I cannot do this at all.
Sometimes, strength looks like stepping back.
This is something others may not see. From the outside, it can look like absence, pause, or retreat. But for me, stepping back is an act of preservation. It is how I protect what strength I have, rather than depleting it in order to appear capable. It is how I honor my body’s wisdom and my long-term wellbeing.
Another deeply meaningful form of strength is how I lean into my creative arts.
Creativity is not an extra—it is restorative. It is how I rebuild my reserves and recharge my internal battery bank. When I create, I am not escaping my reality; I am tending to it. Through color, texture, movement, and expression, I restore what pain and fatigue quietly take. This, too, is strength—intentional, nourishing, and sustaining.
These forms of strength may not always be visible to others, but they shape how I survive, adapt, and continue. They allow me to remain in relationship with myself, rather than in conflict with my limits.
And that relationship is one of the strongest things I practice.
This post on journaling for strength really resonates with me, as reflecting on my own challenges has been so therapeutic lately. I remember a particularly dark month where my mental health was so low that I actually started looking for online exam takers just to get through my finals. It is a powerful reminder that taking care of our inner selves is just as important as meeting every academic milestone.