Letters to You: November 9, 2025

When You're the Strongest Person in the Room (And Nobody Knows It)

Dear You (the silent but strong one),

I need to tell you something that nobody else is going to say:

You’re so much stronger than you realize. And not in the way the world measures strength.

I’m not talking about how much you can lift or how long you can hold a plank or whether you can do a pull-up. I’m talking about the kind of strength that doesn’t show up on Instagram or get celebrated at the gym.

The strength it takes to keep showing up for your body even when it feels like it’s betraying you. The strength it takes to choose movement on days when everything hurts. The strength it takes to be kind to yourself in a culture that profits from your self-hatred.

That’s real strength. And you have it in abundance.

I was thinking about this yesterday during a session with a client who apologized (for the third time) because she couldn’t do an exercise the way she used to. She kept saying “I’m sorry” like her body’s natural aging process was a personal failing.

And I realized: we’ve completely confused strength with performance.

We think strength means never struggling, never modifying, never having limitations. We think it means pushing through pain and ignoring our bodies’ signals and never admitting when something is hard.

But that’s not strength. That’s just stubbornness. And sometimes it’s self-harm.

Real strength is showing up to Pilates even though you’re the oldest person in the class. Real strength is modifying an exercise because you’re listening to your body instead of your ego. Real strength is continuing to invest in your health even when the results aren’t visible or immediate.

Real strength is carrying the weight of perimenopause, aging parents, demanding careers, family responsibilities, financial stress, and a world that feels increasingly chaotic and still finding the energy to care for yourself.

That’s not weakness. That’s superhuman.

But nobody acknowledges this kind of strength, do they? There’s no award for showing up consistently when nobody’s watching. No trophy for choosing self-care when it would be easier to just collapse on the couch. No recognition for the daily decision to be kind to your body instead of criticizing it.

So I’m acknowledging it. I see you.

I see you showing up even when you’re exhausted. I see you trying even when progress feels impossible. I see you being gentle with yourself even when everything in our culture tells you to be harder.

That’s strength. That’s resilience. That’s what gets you through not just this season, but this entire phase of life.

As we move into the holidays with all the family dynamics, travel stress, schedule disruptions, food pressure, and body commentary, you’re going to need this strength more than ever.

Not the strength to look perfect or perform perfectly. The strength to stay connected to yourself. The strength to honor your boundaries. The strength to keep caring for your body even when it feels easier to abandon it.

You have that strength. You’ve been building it all year, every time you chose yourself even when it was hard.

So when you’re sitting at that Thanksgiving table feeling invisible or criticized or less-than, remember: you’re the strongest person in the room. They just can’t see it.

But I can. And more importantly, you can. Thanks for being here!