James sits in his car outside the grocery store for twenty minutes, unable to summon the energy to go inside. Two months after his divorce was finalised, he's read every book on resilience Amazon recommends. He's listened to podcasts about turning pain into purpose. He's bookmarked articles about finding opportunity in adversity. But the thought of walking through those automatic doors fills him with a low-grade dread he can't explain. The fluorescent lights feel too bright, other people's normalcy feels like mockery, and the whole enterprise of pretending to be a functional adult who needs groceries feels exhausting.
The content he's consumed promises dramatic transformation. Breakthrough moments. The phoenix rising from ashes. Resilience as a form of performance art, complete with inspiring speeches and triumphant comebacks. But real resilience looks nothing like this. It's not photogenic. It doesn't go viral. And it definitely doesn't help you navigate the cereal aisle when your brain feels like static.
Real resilience is profoundly boring. And that's exactly why it works.
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