Back in early June of 2021, there was a first for me: dealing with a fracture. Not me though, my daughter. Montana had a recital on June 12th and the ballet that same night. So when she slammed her finger into her cousin’s foot by sliding into it, I was a little worried. She came up to me immediately, and we created a makeshift splint with a fork and tape—we were at a family member’s house for dinner and used what we had. We would come to find out a few days later that she hyper-extended her finger, and in doing so, the tip of her knuckle bone broke off. She was then in a looped splint for two weeks minimum and was unable to use her left hand.

Montana always tries to see the bright side of things and most problems don’t get to her, but this got her. We got home, and she lay on the couch and cried. I kept trying to reassure her that she would be able to dance and that the teachers would help her find a way. In her crying and protesting, I heard her say something I’ve found myself saying throughout my adult life, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.“

She had worked hard all year for this, and to her, she had ruined everything. It broke her heart in that moment. After comforting her and making sure the tears had stopped, I started reflecting on the fractured moments adults, including myself, face throughout our lives.

You swear you won’t be like other married couples, you won’t argue constantly and go to bed in tears because you can’t believe what both of you said to one another. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You give your spouse everything that’s in you, your kindness, faithfulness, and loyalty. All of this just to find out it wasn’t enough, and they have left you for someone else. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

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You find yourself struggling with anxiety and depression. Instead of seeking help, you isolate yourself because you don’t want to burden the people you love or think they won’t understand or they don’t care. You become a shell of yourself and mourn the loss of who you were. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Your first baby is born and everything is wonderful until you notice they are not developing in sync with other kids their age. You get a diagnosis that tells you they will never be “normal.” It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You watch as your other married friends take fun trips and have all the help they need with their kids while you take care of your children because there isn’t anyone who can or will take the time to give you a break and help with your unique situation. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Your family is conflicted with your situation, and it becomes hard for them to be around you because it makes them uncomfortable. You have to make hard decisions you never thought you would. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You dream of watching your children grow up, starting their own adult lives, getting married, and having kids of their own. Disease and illness shatter those dreams and you watch helplessly as your child leaves this life before you do. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Your daughter goes from being a middle child to an only child. You try to hide your tears when someone says how lucky she is to be an only child. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You hear your friends say how they couldn’t imagine ever losing a child or having to take care of a medically fragile child because they couldn’t handle it, but you can not only imagine it, you live it every single day. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

The list can go on and on and on. These fractured moments stop us in our tracks, breaking us in a way that isn’t always visible but is stinging underneath the skin. The pain of these fractures are the thoughts and broken promises and dreams we face as the weeks and years go on. We were groomed from childhood to believe that normal didn’t have any of these fractures and when we face them, it makes us and our families feel like outcasts. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

So, what happens next? What do you do when life breaks your bones and you’re left with pain and heartache?

We keep going. Sounds stupidly simple enough, but it isn’t. Resilience is a characteristic of the human race I both find inspiring and heartbreaking. The ability to push forward, despite what was lost or gained. Throughout history, we see how humans have overcome obstacles of every kind. Just because we read the victory at the end doesn’t mean there wasn’t heartache throughout or in between. Humans push themselves until they break, and then, they find the strength to push more. We naturally move forward, regardless of what is happening to us, until one day we can’t anymore. The days are dark, and we can’t see how we can keep going another day, but then, we wake up the next morning and do it again.

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You might not find it inspiring to just keep going, but honey, that is one of the greatest things you do each and every day. Because when you keep going, you’re showing everyone in your life the greatest human quality in existence, and it provides encouragement that they can keep going on their hardest days. There is strength in waking up and doing it all over again. There is strength in overcoming the obstacles you face behind closed doors. There is courage in loving your children for who they are. When your child isn’t the same as what the world labels “normal,” they need to know they are amazing no matter what others say, and your love does that. Your resilience is life-changing even when you don’t see it.

Fractures can leave us with scars, disabilities, and pain from what has happened to us, but it’s our resilience that defines what that means in our lives. There will be stings of thoughts and lost dreams—those don’t go away—but there is also light and hope within the cracks of those broken bones that shines through. If you do nothing else today, sweet human, keep going. If no one has told you how amazing you are, here’s your reminder: you are loved, you are strong, you are unique, and you are beautiful in your resilience.

Originally published on the author’s blog