There’s a version of me that was trained — conditioned — to soften.
To make things okay for everyone else.
To ease the tension in the room.
To apologize, even for my own needs.

And for a long time, I called that strength.
Because it kept me safe. It kept the peace.
But I’m seeing it now for what it was: survival.

I’ve been watching, reading, and reflecting on Nietzsche’s ideas lately —
not just the loud ones that get quoted to sound impressive,
but the deeper, quieter invitations to discover our inner strength by becoming who we truly are.

And I’ve been asking myself:
What does strength look like for me now?

🗿 Strength Is No Longer Being Who They Trained Me to Be

“Become who you are.” — Nietzsche

They trained me to be small.
Polite. Accommodating.
To speak softly so others wouldn’t feel confronted by my truth.

But I’m learning that I don’t have to explain myself in lowercase letters anymore.

Strength, for me now, is no longer about keeping the room calm.
It’s about staying rooted in myself — even if the room shakes.

⚔️ Strength Is Saying No — Without the Softeners

No more “Sorry, it’s just that…”
No more “I hope that’s okay.”
No more padding the truth to make it easier for someone else to swallow.

“He who cannot obey himself will be commanded.”

Strength is being able to obey my own voice,
to speak with clarity,
to let someone else sit with their discomfort instead of rescuing them with mine.

🌑 Strength Is Embracing the Chaos — and Not Backing Down

I still get cravings. Still feel weight. Still catch myself wanting to soften things.
But I see that as part of the process now — not a failure, not weakness.

“One must still have chaos in oneself to give birth to a dancing star.”

The mess inside me isn’t something to hide.
It’s the fire I’m shaping my life around.
And the more I stay with it, the more I uncover something solid underneath.

🧍 Strength Is Letting Go of the Fear of Arrogance

There’s still a little voice inside me that says:
Don’t be too much. Don’t be too direct. Don’t come across as arrogant.

But I know that voice.
It’s the voice that kept me pleasing, softening, dimming myself to stay safe.

The truth is:
Real strength doesn’t need to dominate or prove anything.
It just stands.

And I’m ready to stand — even if my legs are shaking a little.

🔥 Strength Is Becoming — Not Just Surviving

The old identity is falling away.
The one who coped by being “nice.”
The one who swallowed anger and smiled through it.
The one who craved food to soothe emotions no one helped me hold.

“The snake that cannot shed its skin must perish.”

I’m shedding. Slowly. Deliberately.
Not because I hate who I was — but because I’m ready to become who I am.

💬 Strength, For Me, Looks Like This Now:

  • Speaking clearly — not cruelly, but firmly.
  • Holding boundaries — even when I feel shaky inside.
  • No longer explaining myself to people committed to misunderstanding me.
  • Trusting that the truth doesn’t need a filter.
  • Creating something real instead of trying to be liked.

“Do not pity yourself. Marvel at yourself.” — Nietzsche

I’m still learning. Still wobbling sometimes.
But I can feel it: the softness is becoming steel.
Not cold. Not cruel. But strong. Rooted. Honest.

This is what strength looks like for me now.
Maybe it will look like that for you too.