“No one hustles harder than a woman who had to painfully learn she couldn’t rely on the people she once trusted.” …. Hi, that’s me! This quote I came across today really resonates deeply.

Early on, I became well-acquainted with hyper-independence—a survival tactic I later came to understand was a trauma response. When the very people meant to support and protect me fell short, I had no choice but to take charge, trusting only my instincts to survive. There are multiple circumstances throughout the years that I won’t bore you with that shaped me into someone who, for better or worse, rarely asks for help. If something needed to be done, I did it myself. As an adult, that drive to carry it alone led me to overextend myself until resentment crept in. Still, the thought of relying on anyone and facing disappointment or being let down kept me silent, stuck in a cycle I built out of necessity.

In my pre-teen years, Rocky IV was my favorite movie, with a soundtrack that mirrored my struggles and ignited something inside me. “Eye of the Tiger” was my anthem, but it was “Burning Heart” and “No Easy Way Out” that spoke directly to the girl fighting battles far beyond her years. Watching Sylvester Stallone as Rocky battles his own inner demons was like witnessing my own fire that fuels my soul’s true fight. The inner strength needed to conquer life’s most brutal battles doesn’t come from muscle alone but from gritty, savage determination deep within – the unyielding drive that keeps one moving forward even when our minds screams to give up.

Recently, on one of my early morning runs, those familiar lyrics hit differently: “A quest for answers with an unquenchable thirst and unmistakable fire… no surrender as the body says stop, my spirit cries ‘never.’ Deep in my soul, a quiet ember knows it’s you against you.” 

As a child, these words captured my fight for survival daily, navigating a world where support often came with strings or didn’t show up. Now, as an adult, I realize how deeply that battle has defined me—the drive to push, to rise, to fight the odds, even when it feels like me against everything. There’s a unique kind of loneliness in realizing you can only depend on yourself. It becomes both armor and a cage. That self-imposed isolation, born from necessity, gave me strength and kept me from reaching out.

Beneath the hustle is a heart that longs for care, protection, and genuine support. The flame that fuels my drive—the “unmistakable fire” from the song—isn’t just ambition; it’s a desire to prove that I am more than my hardships and disappointments. Yet the most complicated truth I’ve had to confront is breaking free means risking vulnerability, allowing myself to trust, to lean in, and to be seen—not just as someone who carries it all but as someone willing to let go, even if it means facing the fear of being let down once more. I bravely hope and know there is so much at stake. Still, for me, it is about that freedom within – that is where resilience grows—from daring to believe that my “burning heart” can carry strength and vulnerability without shattering, and if I need to do it alone – I can.