Maria

I share my story in the book … and every now and then, I get to talk with someone who’s read it.
One of the early conversations was with Maria.

I couldn’t tell you how long we chatted. We both just stood there while she shared her story.

At one point, Maria started telling me about a stretch of her life that hit all at once. Not in a dramatic, movie-scene way. Just real.

Her dad died suddenly.
Her mom became seriously ill.
And in the middle of all that, she lost her job.

Same month.

She said there were days when even getting out of bed felt heavy. Not because she didn’t care … but because caring took everything she had.

The whole conversation stayed in the back of my mind because of something quiet. Not huge.

She talked about one night, sitting alone, when she stopped trying to hold it together. She let herself feel what she’d been carrying. The grief. The fear. The anger. The exhaustion.

No plan.
No solution.
Just honesty.

She told me that was the first time she felt steady again … not because anything changed, but because she finally stopped pretending she was okay.

As she shared this, I found myself nodding. Not as someone listening to a story … but as someone who recognized the moment. It was her moment … and she shared it with me. Powerful.

That place where you realize you can’t control what just happened … but you can decide how honestly you’re going to live with it as part of your life.

Maria didn’t talk about resilience like it was a strength she discovered, or any of the ways I describe superpowers. It sounded more like something she practiced quietly. One day at a time. One small decision at a time. And that’s as real as it gets.

As we wrapped up our conversation, I realized this was one of those stories I didn’t want to turn into lessons.

It was bigger than that.

In many ways … the idea of how powerful it is to share your story is what put Resilient-Now.org in motion, with the tool for everyone to start

~ dom