The Storm Doesn’t Last Forever… But the Strength It Builds in You Does
— a story of breaking, becoming, and rising
There are nights the sky cracks open…
and everything you believed was solid suddenly dissolves.
Dreams break.
People leave.
Life whispers a question you’re not ready to answer:
“How much more can you take?”
I’ve walked through those nights.
Nights when the storm outside mirrored the one within.
When the rain wasn’t just falling from the sky —
it was falling from my soul.
When even breathing felt like a battle.
No one sees that part.
The part where you cry quietly behind closed doors,
where strength looks like simply getting up in the morning.
Where hope is a flicker — not a flame.
But here’s the thing about storms:
They’re loud.
They’re terrifying.
But they don’t last forever.
One morning… the silence returned.
Not the silence of defeat,
but the silence after the thunder —
the kind that lets you hear your own heartbeat again.
And that’s when I realized…
I was still standing.
Bent maybe… but not broken.
Tired, but unshakable.
Because while the storm came to tear me down,
it ended up building something deeper:
a quiet, unshakable strength.
The kind that doesn’t need applause.
The kind forged in solitude, in scars, in survival.
So if you’re caught in your own storm right now,
let this be your reminder:
It will pass.
The sky will clear.
The winds will calm.
But what the storm leaves behind —
that fire in your chest, that steel in your spine,
that softness that refuses to give up on hope —
that stays.
That becomes you.
The storm doesn’t last…
But you do.
Forever stronger.
Forever wiser.
Forever becoming.