Rethinking strength
Last week, stuck on the couch feeling sorry for myself (thank you, flu), I had two very different moments of self-pity and perspective.
The first was light-hearted: our Masters League football team had just finished an unbeaten season. We’d beaten the eventual champions twice. And yet, they took the title on goal difference. Our defence was almost impenetrable (11 goals conceded all season) but we didn’t put the ball in the back of the net enough. Lying there, grumbling about “what should’ve been,” I realised: even on the field, what you think is “strength” isn't really strength.
The second was more personal: reflecting on an old relationship where, in trying to “be strong,” I’d stayed silent too often. I carried too much of the blame, thinking that taking it all on would somehow make things better. It didn’t. It only left me smaller, resentful and unheard.
Isn’t it funny how weakness often teaches us the most about strength? I realised that much of what we call “strength” in modern life is really just brittle armour, an external covering disguising our actual weaknesses. It looks solid on the outside but cracks easily under pressure. True strength, I’ve come to learn, looks very different.
In fact, much of what I've come to realise, is what strength is not.
Strength is not perfection
No human being is infallible. We all make mistakes and that’s why seeking forgiveness (and offering it) must be part of our lifestyles. Denying weakness doesn’t make us strong. Owning our flaws and building growth plans around them? That’s strength.
Strength is not arrogance
Being proud of your heritage, culture or identity is good. But when that pride turns into a reason to look down on others, it becomes weakness disguised as superiority. Ever heard of a superiority complex? Real strength doesn’t need to pretend or compare because it has enough dignity to honour itself and others at the same time.
Strength is not silence
Pretending you have no weaknesses isn’t strength, it’s fear in disguise. Likewise, showing emotion isn’t weakness. The real test is managing our responses with integrity and composure. My silence in that past relationship wasn’t noble. Strength would have been to speak honestly, seek forgiveness where it was due, but not erase myself in the process.
Strength is not holding grudges
When we harbour bitterness, we give our power away. People who navigate life with a “no one will ever hurt me again” exterior aren’t unbreakable nor strong, they’re merely stuck. Letting go, forgiving even when it’s hard, is where strength truly lives. If you remain bitter and coarse, the resentment will eat you up from the inside.
Strength is not just winning
Back to that football season: losing the title stung. But it was also the clearest lesson: our defence was elite but we needed to convert our chances. In life, too, strength isn’t measured just by trophies but by what you learn, the humility you maintain, the resilience you build and the respect you earn along the way. Sometimes, even winning turns into a loss. If all the focus is on revelling in the aftermath of the immediate prize, make no mistake, the competition is preparing for the next battle: probing for weaknesses in your defence, identifying the pivot points of your attack.
Last week reminded me: strength isn’t about being untouchable. It’s about being genuine. It’s forgiveness over perfection. Dignity over arrogance. Vulnerability over silence. Growth over grudges. Learning over pride.
That’s the kind of strength the world needs more of: in our leaders, in our families and in ourselves. (Oh, and on the football field!)
👉 Reflection questions for you:
Where are you mistaking armour for strength in your own life?
What would it look like to trade that armour for something genuine, even if it feels risky?
