In the face of a near-death experience with typhoid, compounded by measles and dehydration in a Ugandan hospital, I found resilience by embracing death and later choosing to live with purpose, driven by a desire to offer hope to others. PAULA MUNRO OWEN – Living

I was diagnosed with breast cancer for the second time. Chapter: The Resilience Dance – Bouncing Back with Grace and Grit On February 21, 2023, my world shifted. I was diagnosed with breast cancer—for the second time. I couldn’t believe it. I found a lump

My child’s father. I thought I found solace in our shared pain. However, he shattered me in the most public and humiliating way imaginable. The earliest memory I have is living with my mom and baby brother. Life was good, filled with excitement about the

At only 15 years old, I made a decision that most teenagers wouldn’t even dream of—I started my own business.  What began as a passion for fashion quickly turned into something bigger, but the road to get there took a lot of work. From the

My life story was growing up throughout that life of hardship. To laugh often and much;To win the respect of intelligent people andthe affection of children;To earn the approbation of honest critics and endurethe betrayal of false friends;To appreciate beauty;To find the best in others;To

My resilience was forged in the aftermath of the greatest heartbreak I’d ever known—losing my only sibling, Yosef—which shattered my world and led me on a journey of profound personal transformation, reshaping my career and life’s purpose. Yesterday, we celebrated his birthday. Today, he’s gone.

The day I found out my brother was murdered was a situation where I had to be resilient. October 9th, 2022, Thanksgiving (in Canada anyway) seemed like a normal day and holiday weekend. When I woke up that day, the air was cold, and the

I lost my middle sister, Carrie, who died by suicide on February 20, 2017, and my son had his 2nd episode of seizures on the day of my sister’s celebration of life. I lost my parents and brother, my entire immediate family, within a space

I had to be resilient when my 21-year-old son Alex died suddenly by suicide on August 7, 2016. “Alex is dead, Mom.” These four words spilled out of my youngest son’s mouth on a presumably typical Sunday in August of 2016—words that will forever ring

It was the autumn of 1959. I’m sitting in a cafe booth drinking a Coke with a guy my parents wouldn’t rate higher than zero. My friends have coerced me into meeting with him even though I am aware of his ‘Bad Boy’ image, and