I have this image that comes to mind when I think “toughness.” It’s a big, strong, muscular man with a snarl on his face, maybe a mustache depending on the day (handlebars optional), coated with skin of armor with no emotion. When I was growing up this image, this sense of showing no emotion, was what I tried to emulate whenever a tiny bit of adversity struck. I would throw on my tough bravado and hold all my emotion in.
Days became longer and scarier this way. I was secluding myself from the grace of the world and God, thinking that if I act tough then it really isn’t affecting me in a negative way. In reality, I was hiding under my sheets, scared of the monsters under the bed, and anxiously waiting for what the future held. I became lonely and fearful, separated from others and even myself. I was terrified of the imaginary judgment that would hypothetically be thrown my way, embarrassed of the fact that I wasn’t living up to the big, strong, tough guy social norm.
I tried to get through the news of my heart condition this way. Like always, I suited up, put on my armor and told everyone that I was fine. I wasn’t though. Ends up, I was emotionally broken, my heart trying to reach out for support and love, but my ego was busy pushing others away that cared for me and were willing to help. This left me longing for a time that I could once feel normal again, whatever that meant. I thought that I was being tough for others, but in reality I was trying to protect them from feeling my pain and anguish throughout the process. My family and friends hurt worse when I was keeping them away from my emotions, as they wanted to be let in and feel what I was going through.
Rethinking Toughness
I needed to rethink toughness. My mission was to discover what it truly meant to be tough, give the word a new definition and myself a new mindset. This would enable me to still feel freedom during tough times, rid myself of persecution, and understand that others would feel empathy, not judgement or resentment. The official definition of tough isn’t bad, it simply states the ability to withstand or overcome adverse situations. That’s a great thing, I’m not villainizing toughness as it is one of my top values and beliefs. My past perceived definition of toughness was the issue. The bravado, the social norm of toughness is a disease affecting the world, closing doors on others because it’s what we think we should do.
My New Definition
What I came up with… Toughness is the ability to choose vulnerability and show your enthusiasm in the face of doubt, fear, and adversity. To allow yourself to be vulnerable and take off the mask, announcing to the world that you’re not perfect. Also, understanding that negative emotions allow you to grow while adversity becomes a teacher. It’s lesson at the moment was rethinking toughness, and it was leading me towards cultivating lasting happiness while having a staring contest with fear.
The key to toughness is to simply stand up and share your story, letting others know what you’ve been through and demonstrate that you are choosing to continue forward with contagious enthusiasm and energy. Therefore, building a sense that it will pass, your life will become better, and by sharing your story others can relate, rally, and support. Toughness doesn’t mean you handle an adverse situation all by yourself. Toughness means you handle each situation with perspective, knowing that each present moment in life is leading to the next. By making the choice to have enthusiasm in a tough time you automatically set yourself up for a successful next step, one leading to a fulfilling and thriving moment, with love and positive energy.
I began to implement this into my life, slowly showing my baggage and my enthusiasm, realizing that it was a very literal choice I could make every morning. In previous circumstances such as my heart surgery, I would dwell on the fact that the situation was awful, throw on my armor and walk out the door hoping nothing was strong enough to break through.
With the new mindset a lot had changed as I slowly started to let people in, letting them know I was feeling pain but was enthusiastically striving to become better. I was changing the script, viewing the situation as a blessing instead of a burden. By showing vulnerability and enthusiasm it gave others permission to do the same, and I began to liberate myself from my own fear.