Every day I have to force myself to do something, take action, be better.

Every moment of being a grieving mother, living without her only baby, is a concerted effort.

But I continually try. I make myself take another step, inhale another breath, sleep another night, and wake another day, because I know it is the only way to heal the pain.

This week alone, I fought every instinct I had, and made myself get on a plane. I made myself stay away from the comforts of home for over a week. I made myself appear professional, act poised, and seem confident. I made myself not cry. I made myself be the woman I know I can be when I’m not feeling broken, and defeated, and empty.

I made myself be strong. Because if I can be strong, then I am strong.