You’re Not Just Resilient. You’re Tired. Let’s Talk About That.
- Joset Rosado
- Oct 13
- 4 min read

“You’re so strong.”
Maybe you’ve heard those words all your life.
Maybe you’ve worn them like a badge of honor.
And maybe they’re true.
You’ve survived things most people could never imagine. You’ve carried responsibilities that would break others. You’ve been the one everyone leaned on—family, friends, coworkers—even while your own heart was aching.
But here’s the truth: strength is not the same as healing.
Aguantar no es lo mismo que sanar.

The Trap of Resilience
In many BIPOC communities, resilience is not just admired—it’s expected.
We are taught to keep going no matter what. To swallow pain. To show up with a smile. To take pride in being the one who “handles it.”
And while resilience has its beauty—encompassing creativity, resourcefulness, and survival—it becomes dangerous when it becomes your entire identity.
When people celebrate your strength but ignore your pain, you begin to believe:
Rest is laziness.
Asking for help is a weakness.
If I’m not struggling, I must not be trying hard enough.
This is not healthy.
Eso no es salud.
Eso es sobrevivencia crónica.
Why We Learn to Equate Pain With Worth

Generationally, many BIPOC families have survived trauma, poverty, displacement, or discrimination. Strength wasn’t optional—it was survival.
Grandparents worked endless shifts to keep food on the table.
Parents learned not to “bother” others with their struggles.
Children absorbed the message: you are loved when you are helpful, quiet, hardworking, and strong.
The lesson became clear: to be worthy, you must endure.
This cultural inheritance shapes how resilience is celebrated, but it also conceals the extent of the exhaustion people carry.
What Survival Mode Really Looks Like
When life has demanded constant resilience, your body adapts by staying in survival mode.
That means your nervous system is stuck in patterns like:
Fight (irritability, anger, constant tension).
Flight (overworking, perfectionism, anxiety).
Freeze (numbness, exhaustion, disconnection).
Fawn (people-pleasing, saying yes when you mean no).
You may function on the outside, but inside your system, you are always bracing for the next blow.

Signs You’re Living in Chronic Resilience
You feel disconnected or numb, like you’re “on autopilot.”
You say “I’m fine” while feeling empty inside.
You can’t remember the last time you felt joy without guilt.
Rest feels impossible—you either can’t relax, or you feel guilty when you do.
Your relationships feel one-sided—you’re the giver, rarely the receiver.
Your body carries constant fatigue, tension, or pain.
Being resilient doesn’t mean you’re okay. Sometimes it just means you’ve mastered the art of functioning despite the pain.
The Cost of Always Being Strong
Resilience may help you survive storms, but it has a price.
Emotional cost: bottling up feelings, experiencing anxiety, depression, or burnout.
Physical cost: chronic stress-related illnesses, migraines, insomnia, and digestive issues.
Relational cost: being admired but not deeply known, feeling alone even in company.
Spiritual cost: forgetting who you are outside of what you do for others.
When resilience becomes identity, it quietly erases the softer parts of you—the parts that long for joy, ease, tenderness, and being held.

You Deserve More Than Coping
In therapeutic coaching intensives, I meet women who are tired of being applauded for how much they endure. Women who want more than survival—they want aliveness.
Together, we work on shifting from coping to healing:
Boundaries as love. Saying no not to reject others, but to honor yourself.
Rest as resistance. Choosing rest in a world that glorifies overwork is a revolutionary act.
Healing as freedom. Not about fixing what’s “wrong” with you, but reclaiming what was stolen—peace, joy, and self-worth.
One client told me, “I realized I’ve been admired for my strength while quietly falling apart. I don’t want applause anymore. I want relief.”
Client Story 1: Camila’s Awakening
Camila, 42, was known as la fuerte de la familia. She managed everything: three children, aging parents, and a demanding job. Everyone praised her.
But in her first session, she whispered, “I feel like a machine. I can’t remember the last time I felt happy.”
She believed resting was selfish. Through our work, she practiced small acts of permission: taking naps, asking for help, saying no.
At first, guilt consumed her. But slowly, she discovered that her family still loved her—even when she wasn’t overfunctioning. For the first time in years, she felt human again.
Client Story 2: Ana’s Permission

Ana, 36, a first-generation immigrant, carried pride in her resilience. But inside, she was drowning. She never let her children see her cry. She never admitted to her husband how anxious she felt.
One day, she broke down: “Everyone thinks I’m strong, but I’m so tired of being strong. I want to be seen, not admired.”
Through coaching, Ana realized that healing wasn’t about being less intense; it was about finding a balance. It was about letting herself be held. She began journaling, allowing her emotions to flow out. She reached out to a trusted friend instead of hiding her pain.
She learned that tears didn’t erase strength—they revealed humanity.
Reflective Prompts for You
Take a quiet moment with these questions:
When did I first learn that being strong was more important than being honest about my pain?
What happens in my body when I try to rest? Guilt? Anxiety? Peace?
Whose voice do I hear when I push myself past exhaustion?
What would life look like if I let myself be supported instead of always being the one to help?
What small boundary or act of rest can I try this week?
Healing Begins With Permission
Healing starts with permission.
Permission to be tired.
Permission to feel.
Permission to let someone else carry the load.
Permission to not have it all together.
You don’t have to keep earning your worth through exhaustion.
You are already worthy.
Beyond Resilience: A Vision for Healing
Imagine a life where:
Rest doesn’t come with guilt.
Your worth isn’t tied to how much you carry.
You are celebrated not only for surviving, but for thriving.
You feel safe enough to soften.
This is what life beyond resilience looks like. Not abandoning strength—but reclaiming the right to be more than just strong.

Final Words
If you are tired of being resilient, know this: you are not broken. You are sacred.
And you deserve more than coping.
You deserve joy, softness, and healing.
At Corazon Wellness, our therapeutic coaching intensives are designed to support women who are ready to move beyond survival into freedom.
Because you’re not just strong.
You’re human.
And you deserve to rest, to be seen, and to heal.



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