I was having a particularly hard day when my son reminded me of something I needed to hear.
"It's okay to have hard days."
Then he repeated a phrase I've heard for years:
Embrace the suck.
It's easy to say when life is inconvenient. It's much harder when life is genuinely hard.
Recently, I broke my ankle while hiking. The next day, while learning to navigate crutches, I broke my wrist and tore a tendon in my dominant hand. Overnight, simple tasks became complicated. Walking requires a modified walker and everyday activities now take far more time, patience, and energy than they should.
The physical challenges are obvious, but the hardest part hasn't been the pain.
It's been the loss of independence.
I've always been someone who gets things done. These injuries forced me to slow down and rely on others in ways that felt uncomfortable and, at times, heartbreaking.
What no one really prepares you for is the mental side of recovery: the frustration, the isolation, and the constant reminders of what you can't do. By the time I've gotten dressed and navigated the house, I often feel exhausted. Recovery has taught me that healing is work and sometimes simply making it through the day is enough.
One of the biggest lessons has been humility. I've always taken pride in being independent, so asking for help felt uncomfortable at first. But I've learned that humility isn't weakness. It's accepting support when you need it and recognizing that strength and vulnerability can exist at the same time.
On the hardest days, it's easy to focus on frustration, fear, and everything I've lost. But I've learned that what we focus on grows. That doesn't mean pretending everything is okay. Some days simply suck. It means acknowledging those feelings without letting them define the day.
Instead, I try to focus on gratitude, progress, and the reminder that this chapter is temporary.
I couldn't have gotten through this without my mom, my kids, and the people who have checked in, encouraged me, and reminded me I wasn't alone. My mom has been my lifeline through the daily challenges, and my kids have stepped up in ways that have made me incredibly proud.
This experience has taught me that sometimes strength isn't about doing everything yourself. Sometimes it's allowing the people who love you to show up for you.
At first, I spent a lot of energy wishing things were different and replaying the decisions that led me here. Eventually, I realized I had a choice.
I could focus on everything I'd lost, or I could focus on taking the next step forward.
That doesn't mean pretending everything is okay.
It means acknowledging that this situation sucks and moving forward anyway.
I'm still healing. I'm still learning. I'm still having good days and hard days.
But progress is happening.
One day I'll hike again. I'll run again. I'll walk without a walker and use my dominant hand without a second thought.
Until then, I'll keep moving forward.
Not because it's easy.
But because I know this chapter is temporary.
The injuries will heal. The walker will be gone. But the lessons about resilience, humility, gratitude, and strength will remain.
I'm not through this chapter yet.
But healing is happening. Growth is happening. Progress is happening.
It’s one imperfect step at a time and for now, I need to realize that's enough.
Xoxo
Tiffanee
