Read This If You've Ever Felt Weak

I remember the first time I felt weak.

It's strange. When I was elementary school, I cried ALL the time. My teachers were so concerned for me, but my mom assured them I was fine. It's just what I did. And I never felt weak for it. Crying was how I processed my emotions. That wasn't a problem for me.

It got better as I got older, so by the time I was almost finished with high school, I rarely cried. When I did, it was always in private. Maybe to an outsider I seemed weak for crying, but that wasn't the case. I was emotional and sensitive, sure. But not weak.

Even when times were hard and when my tears were genuine, I still wasn't weak. Because I always got back up. I always moved forward. Weakness wasn't a word in my dictionary. That is, until someone put it there.

It was the second semester of my first year at college. There was a lot going on at the time - none of which I feel comfortable sharing with the whole world - but I was hurting. And rightfully so. It was 2 a.m., and as much I wanted to sleep, I felt too overwhelmed and upset to rest. I did what I thought would be best and I called for help. I asked someone to come up to my room and just be there for me.

They did come. They asked what was wrong. I told them I felt like I was dealing with everything alone. They looked at me and said words that still sting me to this day.

"You need to be stronger."

I told them to get out.

I was being strong. I was not weak for feeling what I was feeling. I was not weak for asking for some comfort and peace. I actually still feel like I handled everything a lot better than any other person would have.

Still, that moment changed me. I believed them. Maybe I was weak. Why wasn't I just taking everything without any problems? Why did I have to be so hurt? What was wrong with me?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And yet, for the first time, I thought I was weak. And that feeling set the foundation for the whole next year of my life. I didn't want anyone to think I was weak. So, I put up with more than I should've. I kept things and feelings to myself. That's what strong people do right? Wrong.

When it all came crashing down, I thought I would never get back up. There was no way I could handle all that life had given me. There was no way I could go on anymore. I didn't want to die, but I didn't want to live, either. Existing was so hard.

A few months ago, I remember telling my sister that I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't keep feeling this way.

"Yeah," she said. "That's what you said last week, too. You didn't think you'd make it this far, but you did."

She was right. On April 30, I told her that there was no way I could do this. I said it again day after day. But every day, I pushed on, even when I didn't want to. So though I felt absolutely horrible, I found some strength deep within me that pushed me to wake up every day even when it was so so hard to.

Strong people are not people with emotions. Strong people cry. Strong people feel. Strong people hurt. And then they get up. And then they let go. And then they move forward. And when it hurts again, as it undoubtedly will, they let it hurt. But they don't let it control them.

The funny thing is that the moments that I felt the weakest were the moments that I was actually the strongest.

And now, finally, I can feel that strength. I'm proud of myself for not giving up, even when that was the easier choice. Even when I wanted to.

I'm proud of you, too. If you're reading this, that means you didn't give up, either. You are strong. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise. Keep pushing on. You'll surprise yourself by how much you can take and how, in time, you'll overcome it all.

And remember....