There’s a difference between hardship and helplessness.

I became a mother at the age of eighteen. While my friends were picking out dorm rooms and mapping out careers, I was holding a newborn in my arms and wondering how I would give him the life he deserved. I worked minimum wage jobs that barely covered the bills. I clipped coupons, juggled overdue notices, and stretched groceries farther than they were ever meant to go. I was divorced young and found myself raising two little boys with nothing but grit, prayer, and the hope that somehow, better days would come.

I’ve faced hardship. Real, soul-testing, world-crushing hardship. But I refused to let it define me. I could have stayed in that place, wrapped in bitterness and self-pity. I could have blamed the world, my past, the people who walked away. And believe me, it would have been easy. But easy doesn’t grow you. Easy doesn’t build strength. Easy doesn’t raise boys into men.

Somewhere along the way, a voice started whispering. It told me I would never overcome what I had been through. That I was stuck. That this was just how life would always be. That voice crept in when I was tired, when I was lonely, when the weight of everything I carried felt too heavy to bear. It told me that I was damaged goods. That my children deserved better. That I would never be more than the girl who got it all wrong.

That voice is the victim mentality. And it is a liar.

The victim mentality convinces you that you are powerless. That your past is too big. That your pain is permanent. That the people who hurt you still hold the pen to your story. It tells you that healing is out of reach, that peace is for other people, and that survival is the best you can hope for. But here is the truth: you may not get to choose how your story starts, but you get to decide how it continues.

You can grieve what was unfair and still rise. You can acknowledge your trauma and still pursue healing. You can forgive what hurt you and still protect your peace. You can love others without letting them keep you small. Healing and growth are not betrayals of your past. They are declarations that you are still worthy of a future.

It is easy to replay old conversations and revisit old wounds. Easy to justify the reasons why you have stayed stuck. But freedom begins where blame ends. At some point, you have to stop waiting for someone to rescue you. You have to stop handing over the authority that was never meant to belong to anyone else. The only person who can choose growth for you is you.

Romans 8:37 says, “…in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.” Not in the absence of pain. Not when the storm passes. In all these things.

Even here. Even now. Even with everything you’ve been through.

You are more than what hurt you. More than what left you. More than what was said about you. More than what you lost.

You don’t have to wait for perfect conditions. You don’t need approval to take a step. You don’t need everything to be right to begin walking toward something better. Take your voice back. Take your healing back. Take your future back. Not because the road is smooth, but because you were made to keep moving forward.

You are not stuck. You are not small. You are not finished. You are not a victim.

You are becoming.