Stories & Strength

When I first saw the Coin of Resilience, I immediately thought about people in my life who struggle silently and how much this coin could mean to them. It is more than a symbol; it is a lifeline, a conversation starter, a quiet way to say, “I see you.” I will be carrying it and sharing it with a purpose.

I carry the Coin of Resilience in my pocket every day as a quiet reminder to stay grounded, stay present, and keep pushing forward. On the hard days, the ones that sneak up on you, it reminds me that I have been through worse and I am still standing. And also, that strength is not loud, and resilience does not always look like victory. It means I did NOT quit.

The coin is not a cure, but as a quiet promise that I am not alone and that my story still matters. I reach for it when the doubt creeps in, and it reminds me that even on my weakest days, I am still choosing to stand. And that choice, over and over, is its own kind of strength.

Trauma is often misunderstood—it's not just born of war zones or disasters but can quietly grow in what some call a “normal” life. For years, I believed my strict upbringing didn’t qualify as trauma, but the emotional detachment, anger, and performative strength I carried told a different story. I wasn’t “tough,” I was hiding—from pain, from vulnerability, from myself. Healing began not with a dramatic breakthrough, but with small moments of recognition and connection. The Coin of Resilience is one such reminder: you don’t have to face down the darkness alone.