Let’s get this out of the way: I’m not here to sell you a “five-step hack” or pretend resilience is just about “thinking positive.” If you want that, there are plenty of shiny Instagram accounts for you. But if you’re someone who’s been knocked down, gotten up, and then tripped over your own shoelaces again-welcome. You’re my people.
I didn’t learn resilience from a TED Talk or a motivational poster. I learned it in the mess: growing up in a tiny Scottish fishing village where reputations stuck like seaweed, trying (and failing) at more hobbies than I can count, and stumbling my way through anxiety, self-doubt, and the occasional mansion party with a kink community (long story, but trust me, it helped).
What I know now? Resilience isn’t about being unbreakable. It’s about being bendy-like emotional bamboo. It’s about getting honest, asking the hard questions, and finding ways to keep moving, even when life feels like a storm.
So, how do you actually build resilience for real life? Not the Instagram version-the “I’m late for work, my brain’s on fire, and I just spilled coffee down my shirt” version. Here’s what’s worked for me, and what might just work for you, too.
Forget perfect handwriting or poetic sentences. My journal is full of crossed-out words, half-baked ideas, and a few questionable doodles. But it’s also where I get honest about what’s really going on in my head.
Some days, I just write, “Today was rubbish. Here’s why…” Other days, I scribble down questions I can’t answer yet. The act of journaling isn’t about finding solutions-it’s about making space for the mess, the confusion, and the rare flashes of clarity.
Prompt:
What’s one thing I’m pretending isn’t bothering me right now?
I used to think mindfulness was for people who could sit still for more than two minutes. (Spoiler: that’s not me.) But I’ve learned it’s less about emptying your mind and more about noticing-your breath, your tension, the way your jaw tightens when you get that annoying email.
You don’t need a meditation app or a scented candle. Try this: next time you’re washing dishes, pay attention to the water, the sound, the way your mind wanders. That’s mindfulness. It’s about showing up for your own life, even in the boring bits.
Resilience isn’t about ignoring pain. It’s about getting curious. When something knocks you sideways, ask:
What is this really about?
What am I afraid of here?
What do I actually need right now?
Sometimes the answer is “a nap.” Sometimes it’s “to finally say no.” Either way, the act of asking is what matters.
I’m not talking about writing “I’m grateful for my health” every day until you believe it. Some days, all I can manage is “I’m grateful for coffee and the fact I didn’t scream at anyone today.” That counts.
Gratitude isn’t about ignoring the hard stuff. It’s about noticing the small wins, the weird joys, the moments that make you smirk. Over time, it rewires your brain to spot hope-even on the days when hope feels thin on the ground.
I’m not a gym bro, and you don’t have to be either. But I’ve learned that moving-walking, stretching, dancing badly in my kitchen-shakes something loose. It’s less about fitness and more about reminding yourself you’re alive.
Try this: when your thoughts get stuck, move. Even if it’s just standing up and shaking out your arms like a weirdo. It helps.
Resilience isn’t just about bouncing back. It’s about knowing when to say “enough.” For me, that meant learning to say no to extra work, to late-night texts, to anything that drained me dry.
It’s awkward at first. But every time you hold a boundary, you teach yourself that your needs matter. That’s resilience in action.
I used to think resilience was a solo sport. Turns out, it’s more like a relay race. The people who’ve seen me at my lowest-the friends who don’t flinch when I’m a mess-are the ones who help me get back up.
You don’t need a huge circle. Just one or two people who get it. And if you can’t find them yet, start by being that person for yourself in your journal.
Here’s the truth: you will mess up. You’ll have days where you want to quit, where you fall back into old habits, where you feel like you’re going backwards. That doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re human.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to start again. The only difference now? I don’t make it mean something about my worth. I just pick up the pen and try again.
You don’t “arrive” at resilience. You practise it, every day, in small ways. Journaling. Mindfulness. Saying no. Moving your body. Asking for help. Some days you’ll nail it. Some days you’ll forget. Both are fine.
The point isn’t perfection-it’s persistence.
If you take nothing else from this, let it be this: resilience is about being real. About showing up, even when you’re tired, scared, or unsure. About trusting that you can handle more than you think-even if you need to grumble about it first.
So, next time life throws a curveball, grab your journal, take a breath, and remember: you’ve survived 100% of your worst days so far. That’s not luck. That’s resilience.
You don’t need to be perfect to be resilient. You just need to keep showing up. Journaling, mindfulness, gratitude, asking deep questions-they’re not magic bullets, but they are tools. Use them. Adapt them. Make them yours.
And if you need a nudge? Combat Journal’s here for you. Not with easy answers, but with real talk, prompts, and a reminder that you’re not alone in this messy, magnificent thing called life.
