We all experience hardship. The absolute discomfort of pressing your hands on your face immensely heavy, the ultimate surrender of the outcome this pain may unveil. Pain does not define who we are; however, the obstacles we are faced with and how we deal with them shape the path for our purpose in life. In my situation, these emotional struggles have supported a sense of tremendous motivation for living. Pain has enabled me to remain resilient.
It was an overcast day in Canton, Ohio. I was ten years old, anxiously waiting for what seemed like an endless car ride to come to an end. The “final destination” was my grandparents’ apartment. My Nanny and Poppy were from Latvia, a small country in the Baltic region of Northern Europe, and had immigrated to the northern United States through Ellis Island in 1943. I’ve always been undoubtedly infatuated with my grandparents, especially Nanny. Nanny was a wonderful cook. She would tell the most captivating stories based on experiences that she endured throughout her life. Nanny portrayed her triumphant life story, narrating an adventure, illustrating her strenuous quests all across Europe, finally reaching the Americas.
I would go to Poppy and Nanny’s every weekend; they were my best friends. I was extremely shy as a young girl, not having many friends. Well, Nanny was always there to fill that void. My fondest memory of Nanny is when I would sit on a wooden stool in her kitchen, absolutely mesmerized with her gift to overcome obstacles and to accomplish anything and everything. Nanny made every effort to express her infinite love for me. But soon, my best friend would occupy a dreadful absence that would change my life. The route to Nanny’s apartment occupied a strange quietness, not a word from my family members. Halfway through the drive, my mother had a heartbreaking conversation with my sister and I. This was no normal visit. She explained that the breast cancer Nanny had been battling for months was not getting better and she was facing the end of her life. Though Nanny had been through multiple trials of chemotherapy and rehabilitation, cancer persisted.
Now, the car ride felt horribly brief. Upon arriving at Nanny’s house, I didn’t know what to expect. As I looked around my grandparents’ apartment, I saw many of my family members all together, reunited for an unfortunate cause. In their eyes, I could see throbbing despair. My mother told my sister and I to wait in the living room until they were done. I couldn’t just sit there and wait to see Nanny any longer, so I pushed open the door where she was resting to see my Poppy at the end of the bed trembling in sorrow. As I carefully looked to my Nanny, a rush of uneasiness came over me. There she was, deadly still with blueish-purple bruises painted on her chest. That was the first time I was exposed to heartache. As a young girl, this was extremely traumatizing. My best friend, the person I looked up to most, was gone. I had been numbed against pain and insensitive to hardship. Now, I was introduced to this foreign “pain” and grasped it entirely. It was absolutely gut-wrenching.
Three years later, I again experienced something that changed my life. One September day, I skipped home from the school bus stop. As I walked inside, I greeted my grandmother, and she explained that my mom had injured herself and was in the hospital. For many months she had been experiencing terrible pain in her leg from overworking herself in tennis. Despite what the doctor told her, she kept playing and as a result, tore her Achilles tendon. During this process, she had undergone six surgeries. Her tendon had become infected twice from the surgery, and she received news that the best option would be to amputate her leg. The simple pain in her leg turned into something that none of us expected. She had lost the ambition to move in any least bit. This lasted for nine months. She was immeasurably tired of this never-ending process.
Simultaneously, my father had received a life-changing challenge. He had lost his business. Because of this, he was struggling with medical bills and mortgage payments. Soon after, we were forced to vacate our home. There was a period where we struggled with financial stability to the point where it was untold when we would receive our next meal. For months upon months, my family was broken. Again, I experienced a loss of innocence and a new chapter of discomfort. Then, we decided to take a risk. My dad decided to travel to Greenville, SC for a job interview at a wireless company. This interview changed our lives. My dad was given the opportunity to hold a Vice President role at this company. This gave my family and I a wonderful chance to start over, but the thought of walking away from all of my family and friends was terrifying. Akron, Ohio was all I had ever known. So, a few days later, we packed up all of our belongings and moved to South Carolina. I was absolutely brokenhearted leaving so many memories behind. But before long, I would learn that change is an important part of life.
Leaving the only home I knew as a teenager was extremely difficult; it was mentally debilitating. When we arrived in Greenville, I didn’t know a single person. I felt as though I was stranded, desolate, completely alone. I was eager to embrace a new place and happy that I lived four hours closer to my grandparents in Wilmington, NC, however, I still felt isolated. I gained an unhealthy amount of weight and had very low self-esteem. I moved to two different middle schools within one year and struggled with making friends. I got bullied by people in my church group, which is unexpected from people who strive to do the right thing.
My high school experience was tough. I felt completely out of touch with my life. I had no idea of who or what I wanted to be. I completely changed my mindset to believe that I could become whoever or whatever I wanted to be. I became truly comfortable with myself. I take time for myself and put myself first. If you have the mindset that you are in control of your life and no one else is, you can really focus on the bigger picture. Finding a reason to be resilient every day brings you closer to achieving your goals. Beginning my college career in Charleston, SC has also brought upon so many opportunities for personal growth.
Living life in a city can be overwhelming but so rewarding because I’m constantly busy discovering things about myself. I’ve learned to develop supportive relationships. I also build resilience by building a sense of humor and having fun with life. I’ve gained confidence from acknowledging my growth. Most of all, vulnerability has allowed me to understand my path of resilience.