The Resilient Child: When Survival Becomes Your Identity

In my work as a Child Welfare Services social worker, I encounter brokenness every single day.

Not the kind that is always visible on the surface, but the kind that lives quietly beneath behaviors, decisions, and survival patters. Brokenness that learned how to function long before it ever had the chance to heal.

And if I'm honest, sometimes when I look at the individuals I serve, I don't just see them. I see pieces of myself in the child. 

I see far behind their eyes. The hyper-awareness. The quiet strength they should never have had to develop so early. I see the child who learned to survive environments where they were never given the safety to simply be a child.

And when I look at their mother, I see something else. I see a woman who does not know her worth, measuring her value by the barometer of a man who does not value her, much less himself. I see a woman choosing survival over safety, validation over protection. Not because she does not love her children, but because somewhere along the way, she stopped loving herself.

I see a woman who was likely once that same child. A child who adapted. A child who endured. A child who survived, but never fully healed. And in those moments, I am reminded how unhealed wounds do not disappear with age. They grow. They shape decisions. They influence what we tolerate,what we accept, and what we believe we deserve.

She was not born believing she was unworthy. Life taught her that. Healing is what teaches her otherwise.

And healing is not just about addressing what was done to you. It is about confronting what you began to believe about yourself because of it.

I have lived it. 

Resiliency is often praised as strength, but resiliency is most often birthed in environments where thriving was never an option. It is born in places where survival becomes the only choice.

The first emotion I ever became acquainted with was fear. The second was rejection.

I remember the day I spoke my truth about my abuse. And I remember the pressure that followed. Pressure to recant. Pressure to protect everyone but myself. My truth held less value than their comfort. And in that moment, rejection became a seed planted deep within me.

But what I understand now is this:

You do not have to remain in bondage because the people around you will not benefit from you being free. Your freedom was never meant to be conditional.

So, I learned to survive. But survival and healing are not the same thing. When wounds remain unhealed, they become the lens through which you see everything. I saw rejection in relationships. I anticipated rejection in friendships. I expected rejection in my goals and dreams. So, I sabotaged them before they could reject me first. 

Over time, rejection became my identity. Until one day, I chose differently.

When I published my book, I chose me.

I valued me.

I loved me.

I prioritized me.

And now, in my career, I often think about that 8 year old girl. She needed someone to say:

You are brave.

I am proud of you.

You are not alone.

I will not reject you.

I will protect you.

I choose you.

I LOVE YOU.

And maybe that is why this work matters so deeply to me. Because every time I advocate for a child, I am also speaking to the child I once was.

Take Away

Maybe you are reading this today carrying wounds that taught you to survive instead of thrive. Hear this clearly:

You were never created to just survive.

You were created to be whole.

You were created to be free.

You were created to pick up your crown.

God is saying to you:

"I choose you. 

I will not reject you.

I will protect you.

I LOVE YOU."

You are: Crowned, Called, and still becoming.

Until we meet again...