Strength in the Wobble

This past weekend, I had the joy of spending time with two of my children and my grandson. We clocked up eight hours of driving, shared laughter, stories, and little adventures. It was a beautiful, ordinary kind of magic. And then life reminded me that even in moments of joy, the body can have its own plans.

It was my first FND flare-up in a while. That damn hill? Yeah… it got me 😅. But here’s the thing: it wasn’t hard out. It was just a little shakey-shakey. My body was speaking its truth, and instead of ignoring it, I listened. I breathed, I slowed down, and I made sure the hill didn’t win. Because sometimes, strength isn’t about conquering it’s about presence.

This is what strength looks like now for me. It’s not pushing past my limits. It’s not proving anything to anyone. It’s listening, adapting, and showing up for myself even when I feel wobbly. It’s choosing care over force, rest over exhaustion, and awareness over denial.

Monday began with mirimiri and grounding, rituals that help settle my nervous system and reconnect me to myself. Today, I’ve dedicated to rest and recovery, allowing my body to catch up with my spirit. I’ll end the day with meditation, a practice that supports my nervous system, my healing, and my becoming.

Because becoming her the woman I am beneath the survival mode, beneath the trauma and chronic illness is not a straight line. It’s a series of small, intentional steps forward. Some days, it’s gentle and graceful. Other days, it’s shakey-shakey, breath by breath. And that’s okay.

I’m still moving forward. Even when my body wobbles. Especially then.

“Becoming her means learning that strength isn’t the absence of struggle it’s knowing how to breathe, soften, and keep going anyway.”