How to Find Strength in Uncertainty

How to find strength in uncertainty

I’ve been looking for a way for how to find strength in uncertainty, without invalidating my experience. For a long time, I believed that pushing through meant I was being strong, resilient, and grounded. In the ICU, that’s how I operated, holding onto that constant need for control amidst chaos. When I had to leave that career, a job that had defined so much of my identity, I encountered something that I didn’t expect: The Void.

This Void wasn’t just an absence of direction or motivation; it was a space that felt empty in a way that echoed. It felt like a missing part of myself. Back when I had part of my thyroid removed due to a tumor, I didn’t expect my body to regrow that lost piece. But I also hadn’t fully come to terms with what that scar symbolized—a constant reminder of the parts of me I couldn’t recover. 

And now, standing at the edge of this new Void, I realized that I would need to accept that this too, represents a part of me that I could not recover.

As it Often Is, the First Step I Took Was Resistance

At first, I resisted. I felt myself wanting to push through, to fill the emptiness with something productive or purposeful. But every attempt felt hollow, like I was pouring water into a cracked vase—it didn’t matter how much I poured; it would all drain away. I realized that perhaps I wasn’t meant to fix or fill this space. Perhaps, like my scar, it was something I was meant to carry with me, not erase.

That felt very heavy. Didn’t want to have to carry this burden with me for the rest of my life! And I started to feel hope grow quieter until it was almost gone.

In moments like these, resolve isn’t the bright, blazing force of hope. It doesn’t sweep in with promises of better days or silver linings. Instead, resolve is a quiet companion that says, “Even if nothing changes, I will carry you through this.” There’s a stillness in resolve, a sense of being willing to hold the weight of whatever we feel, to walk through it step by step, even when the path isn’t clear.

How to Find Strength in Uncertainty: Sitting with The Void

The Void became something I learned to sit with. Didn’t try to understand it or conquer it; I just acknowledged it, like an old friend with whom words weren’t necessary. I started spending intentional time with it, no longer letting it linger at the edges of my awareness, waiting for me to give it attention. I realized that part of moving forward didn’t mean filling the emptiness but rather learning to coexist with it, allowing it to be part of my life without defining it.

The Void, for me, felt like the left side of my thyroid, a part of myself that wasn’t coming back. It had left a scar, a reminder that there are voids we can carry without needing to fix them. And the strangest thing happened—when I stopped fighting it, when I stopped trying to cover it with positivity or purpose, I began to feel lighter. Slowly, without any grand revelation or sudden shift, hope started to trickle back in, like drops of rain after a long drought.

This wasn’t the hope I’d known before. It was quieter, softer, like the sun peeking through after a storm. It didn’t promise to make everything okay, but it reminded me that life could continue with both beauty and pain coexisting. There was space for both, and I didn’t have to choose one over the other. Instead, I had to learn how to find strength in uncertainty.

A Path Forward Without Pushing Through

In our culture, we’re often taught to “push through,” to fight against whatever’s holding us back. But what I learned from The Void is that sometimes, pushing through isn’t the answer. Sometimes, the real strength lies in standing still, in letting the wave of discomfort wash over us and simply being with it.

Resolve is different from resilience. Resilience is about bouncing back, about returning to some version of ourselves we recognize. Resolve, though, is about moving forward even when we’re not sure what we’re moving toward. It’s the willingness to keep going, even if that means stepping into the unknown.

When hope quiets, resolve steps in, steady and unshakable. It’s not flashy or inspiring, but it’s enough. It’s the small, persistent voice that says, “Even if the path is unclear, I’ll walk beside you.” Resolve allows us to sit in the mess, to acknowledge the parts of ourselves that feel broken or empty, and to recognize that those parts don’t need to be fixed to be whole.

How to Find Strength in Uncertainty: Meeting Ourselves in the Quiet

The Void taught me a lesson that I couldn’t have learned any other way. It showed me that my strength didn’t come from my ability to keep pushing or to find immediate answers. It came from my willingness to sit with myself, to honor the quiet parts, and to accept that sometimes, the journey forward doesn’t involve constant action.

If you’re standing in your own void, if you feel like hope has grown quiet and you’re not sure what’s next, I want you to know that there is strength in simply being with yourself in this moment. You don’t have to push through. You don’t have to have all the answers. Sometimes, just the willingness to keep going, even in the silence, is enough.

Embracing Both Hope and Resolve -How to Find Strength in Uncertainty

I no longer see The Void as something I need to conquer or fill. It’s simply a part of my journey. A reminder of the parts of me I’ve lost and the parts I’m still discovering. I carry it with me, along with the scar on my thyroid. As a testament to the things I’ve endured and the lessons I’ve learned. And, in some strange way, it has become a source of quiet strength—a place within me where both hope and resolve can coexist and understand how to find strength in uncertainty.

If you find yourself in this space, know that you’re not alone. There’s no need to rush through it or fill it with meaning before you’re ready. Let resolve hold you, let it guide you gently forward, and trust that in time, hope will return, soft and steady, like the light that shows up just before dawn.

My Dear Friend,

If you’re here, I know you’ve been carrying a weight that feels impossible to bear. You’re standing on that edge, feeling the ache of hope slipping away, and wondering what could possibly fill that void. I want you to know that I see you. I know that heaviness, the exhaustion that comes from holding on, and the frustration of watching things remain unchanged. You’re not alone in feeling the sadness, anger, or even resentment that comes when the path forward isn’t what you had imagined it would be.

It’s okay to feel this way. It’s okay to mourn the loss of the future you had hoped for, to sit with that sadness, and to honor the parts of you that yearn for something more, something different. That ache is real, and it deserves space to be acknowledged. But if you find yourself standing here with hope growing quiet, I want to share with you what has been true for me: sometimes, when hope fades, something else rises in its place. It’s something just as powerful, but in a different way.

From Hope to Resolve: A Story of Holding On and Letting Go

There’s a beauty to hope that can be intoxicating. It has a way of lifting you up, filling you with visions of what could be. But as much as we cling to hope, there are times when it can no longer carry the weight of reality. For me, that reality came with the loss of my ICU career.

In the years since that change, I’ve worked to find purpose in what I do now. And this work is incredibly meaningful—I get to help people in ways I never imagined. But no matter how fulfilling it is, it doesn’t fill that particular gap. The work I did in the ICU held a specific kind of urgency, a life-or-death intensity that can’t be replicated.

For a long time, I hoped I could reshape my path to somehow reclaim that feeling. I kept trying to mold my work now into something that could bridge that gap. But in the back of my mind, I always knew it wasn’t possible. And this year, as the anniversary approached, the reality of that truth hit me all at once.

At that moment, hope grew quiet. I could feel it slipping away, like the last note of a song fading into silence. And as I stood there, with no illusions left, I felt resolve rise in its place. It was a powerful shift, one I can’t quite put into a single word. It was a feeling of dusting myself off, of standing up tall, and of committing to keep going, even if things never change.

The Unnameable Feeling of Resolve

When resolve takes over, it’s not peaceful—not in the way we’re often taught peace feels. It’s a different kind of calm, like standing in the eye of a storm. It’s not about silence or softness. Comes in both calm and rage, quiet and crashing thunder, anger and acceptance. It’s the fierce knowledge that you can’t control the winds, but you’re going to stay planted in the ground, weathering whatever comes your way.

Resolve isn’t soft; it’s grounded. It has a weight to it, a rawness that feels like a reckoning. When you stand in that space, it’s as though you’ve laid down all the “what ifs” and “somedays” and taken up a commitment to live fully in the “now.” There’s an honesty to it, an acknowledgment that some gaps will never be filled, and yet, there’s an unbreakable strength in accepting that.

For those of us who have walked through immense challenges, hope is a familiar companion. She’s light and warm, a reminder of all the good that could be. But resolve—resolve is different. She’s not about what might change. She’s about being here, in this moment, fully embracing what is, with a fierce and unyielding determination. She doesn’t carry promises, but she carries you.

Finding Strength in Uncertainty

It’s hard to capture that feeling with one word. Resolve brings with it a sense of calm, but it’s not the sort that makes you feel safe or sheltered. Instead, it’s the kind of calm that feels like fire burning steadily in your chest, a commitment to stay strong, no matter what. It’s the energy of grit, of determination, of a promise you make to yourself that you’ll keep going forward, not because you’re waiting for things to improve, but because you know you have the strength to face whatever comes.

Resolve is the raw energy that steps in when hope can no longer bear the weight. She’s the quiet force that allows you to keep moving forward, not because you’re waiting for things to get better, but because you’re committed to showing up for yourself, no matter what. She’s that whisper in the back of your mind that says, “Even if nothing changes, I’ll carry you through.”

So if you’re standing at that edge, if hope is fading, know that resolve is ready to take her place. She’ll be there with you, steady and strong, helping you find meaning even when things don’t turn out the way you imagined. And in that space, you may find a new kind of freedom, a release from expectations and a groundedness in who you are.

One More Time

When resolve takes over, it’s not about changing the situation or waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about finding the strength within yourself to say, “One more time.” It’s about dusting yourself off and moving forward, even with the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. Resolve allows you to carry on, to find purpose in each moment, and to create a life that holds meaning, no matter the circumstances.

You may find that this unnameable feeling—this quiet, raw energy—is exactly what you need. It won’t always feel easy, and it won’t always bring peace, but it will bring strength. And with that strength, you’ll carry on, one step at a time, through the quiet and the storm, the calm and the thunder, the anger and the acceptance.

So here’s to resolve, that fierce companion who rises up when hope grows quiet. She is your foundation, your grit, and your guide. Trust in her, and let her carry you through, even if nothing changes.

With strength and resolve,

Avery