I do not think that means what you think it means...

Strength, or our perception of it, is a theme I have come back to time and again in my writing. For a long time, I didn’t think I deserved to be considered strong because it wasn’t something I chose. Though I eventually accepted that there is always a choice, even when the alternatives seem unfathomable. I have come to see strength as a collection of tools we pick up along our travels even when we wish that we didn’t need them. So why, if I am now able to own my strength, am I still struggling to define it?

Recently I wrote that, “sometimes, ‘You’re so strong!’ can sound an awful lot like, ‘Wow, your life sucks!’”, and that line has been nagging at me. Because when someone tells us we are strong, it is meant as a compliment. However, what is unsaid but understood is that strength is perceived in those that have endured and survived. Honorable? Yes. Desirable? Not exactly. 

My gut reaction has been to chalk this up as a platitude someone says when they aren’t sure what else to say. Or maybe even a reflection of how they view themselves and what they would have done in my shoes. However, unlike, grief platitudes such as, “she’s in a better place,” I do believe that when people note another person’s strength, they mean it.

And there IS value in these words. They are an acknowledgement of the pain we have endured in our life. When someone says that we are strong, they are also saying: I see you, I see the journey you have been on, and I see how difficult it must have been to survive and get to where you are today. That validation does feel good. Though, maybe also still a little bit of, “wow your life has been shittier than mine.” 

The other place I’ve gotten hung up with receiving strength as a compliment is that I know that my journey is not unique. Medically complex parenting and child loss are experienced by hundreds of thousands of families across the country. I just happen to share our experience from a stage and on the internet. This doesn’t make my strength special; it just means I haven’t yet met a microphone I didn’t like. Using words to express emotion, being a storyteller, a public speaker – these are skills, not symbols of strength.

Similarly, it is easy for me to downplay my strength because I know others have had it worse. However, this falls into my theory on the grief Olympics and how comparing loss or hardship in life doesn’t benefit anyone. If being the strongest means you have overcome the most ie. had the most challenging life, that is one medal no one is clambering to be awarded.  

I’ve recently realized that my uncomfortableness with being told I’m strong boils down to word choice. What if, instead of telling someone how strong they are, we acknowledge their struggles and the amount of work they must have done to be where they are today. This is an acknowledgement I can appreciate. 

You might shout, “semantics!” But I argue that the words we use matter. And if the goal is to acknowledge and praise then let’s do so in a way that means something to the person we’re praising. Because, trust me, we are all still craving acknowledgement and recognition for what we have experienced. We are not so far removed from our younger selves who might have waited to sweep the floor or clean our rooms until there was a grown-up around to witness our actions and show appreciation.  

We *should* absolutely complement and acknowledge each other! This is something I want to consciously do more of moving forward, in part because I know how much it means to me…even if I suck at receiving them – seriously someone please tell me the best, least awkward way to do this. BUT it is important that we understand how a compliment is received. 

I would love to hear from all of you. What are some compliments people have given you that you believe they meant sincerely, but just didn’t land right? Let’s learn from each other how we can better acknowledge and support each other in a way that makes us feel seen and appreciated.

Photo description: Kelly on a stage with a dark blue background behind her. She is wearing an orange and pink floral maxi dress and is speaking into a handheld microphone. Off to the side is a gold table and a guitar.