Strength Isn't Everything

It’s a common trend in the literature and media of today, to see a character described as ‘strong,’ or maybe ‘tough,’ ‘heroic,’ or ‘resilient.’ If the author or promoter is attempting to show a different kind of strength, they may say ‘spirited,’ ‘rebellious,’ ‘persevering,’ or ‘courageous.’ It’s no secret that our culture emphasizes, encourages, or promotes strength. Weakness in any form is frowned upon, even if it’s understandable, even if it’s the natural response. To some extent, this is a good thing. It teaches us not to let small things strike us down, to push through our obstacles, to refuse to give up or give in when we know we’re in the right but the odds are all against us. It keeps us fighting, and we need that.

You don’t need me to tell you this, of course. You know it’s a good thing to be strong and desire to be strong, to read of strong people and admire them, watch strong heroes and imitate them, write strong characters and hope they will inspire others to strengths they never thought they could have. So please allow me to remind you of something very important, for writing and for life:

It’s okay to not be strong.

Let’s put this in the writing world for a minute. Fictional characters experience all sorts of tragedies within the span of a few short pages. Family members – sometimes entire families – die or never existed to begin with. Friends betray. Enemies wreak physical, mental, and emotional havoc. Journeys are overrun with obstacle after obstacle. Well-intended maneuvers go awry. Yet so much of the time, the characters who have their entire lives reshaped are supposed to just keep going because it’s necessary for the plot, because the world is depending on them, because they don’t have time to grieve.

And they do. They keep going like nothing happened and the book ends without dealing with the scars they’ve accumulated throughout it. Life moves on. And every once in a while, if they have a spare moment, they might wonder if their dead parents would be proud of them or what might have gone differently if that traitor had made better decisions. This is where strength goes astray, by eliminating the natural reactions to monumental events and turning characters – and people – into machines.

It’s okay to be overwhelmed at the obstacles of life. It’s okay to break down crying when everything gets to be too much. It’s okay to be in shock for a while when the waves are building high and there’s no sign of land. It’s okay to collapse under the weight of the world and wonder if you can get back up. It’s okay to be sickened, to be hurt, to be broken. It makes our characters human. It makes us human.

It’s okay to ask for help, too. A lot of the time, in life and in stories, a strong character isn’t supposed to need help, or if they do they’re supposed to struggle through as best they can. Sometimes they’re allowed to ask someone they trust wholeheartedly, maybe one or two people or a small team of devoted individuals, to help them through their hardships. That’s not the way it’s supposed to work, though. I know. I’ve tried to be one of these strong characters. I’ve thought I was supposed to be strong enough to get through my struggles by myself, never letting others see, keeping a stiff upper lip for the benefit of those around me. It doesn’t work out well, as you likely figured out before I did. It just buries our broken pieces and makes them harder and harder to fix – but that’s a post for another time.

Sometimes strength isn’t your own at all. Sometimes you have to borrow it from those around you. They can handle it. You’ve been strong for them before, and they know it. Sometimes they aren’t strong enough either, and then you have to rely on a strength greater than your own, and that’s okay too. Strength doesn’t have to come from you all the time; you’ll burn out before long, and the people around you will burn out if they’re constantly replenishing you. But if you choose to accept that and use strength beyond yourself, strength that isn’t your own, it replenishes you. It fills you with power that you won’t find any other way. After all, His power is made perfect in our weaknesses – not our strengths. When we are weak, then we are strong.

The only part of this process that isn’t okay is if you let yourself stay in it forever, especially if your character does in fact have the weight of the world on their shoulders or an upcoming climactic battle or a difficult conversation. It’s not okay to dwell on your brokenness and drag it out when you have others depending on you. Once you’re capable of thinking of others again, it’s your responsibility to do so. You can do that while you’re still broken, while you’re still overwhelmed, while you’re still fighting whatever battles you’re facing. The people depending on you? They’re broken too. They’re overwhelmed. They’re fighting their own battles. They get it. You don’t have to hide it from them to make yourself look strong. What really shows your strength is admitting your weakness, your battles, your struggles, and not dismissing them but overcoming them when the time comes.

You don’t have to bury your feelings to be strong. You don’t have to ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ or pretend everything is fine. Strength isn’t building thick walls that keep feelings separated from the rest of life and only have the tiniest door or window to allow them through. Strength forms bridges that help you get to the other side and keep fighting. It’s not pushing through regardless of the long-term consequences, it’s joining forces with everyone who would be affected and pushing through together.

Strength isn’t having an unbreakable weapon. It’s reforging the blades that are broken.

So when you’re writing a character who has to be strong, compensate by also allowing them to be weak. When you’re faced with a situation which demands strength beyond your capacity, go ahead and cry and then give it anyway. When you fight battles and climb mountains far beyond your abilities, allow yourself to be weak and keep fighting anyway. When you’re faced with the most inhumane of circumstances, allow yourself to be human, and then overcome them anyway. Be human, but don’t let it render you helpless. Be weak, because it allows you to then be strong.