Mountains. The one place that makes me feel grounded, protected, and powerful.
The place I ran to when my parents’ screaming fights got to be too much.
Where the wind through the pines envelops me like a warm hug.
High above the world, where time slows down, where I can settle and come back to myself.
Where I can finally allow myself to exhale the breath I have been holding and remember that I am brave, and I am safe.
Like us, mountains are forged from immense, unrelenting pressure and the movement of tectonic plates.
It is so much like what resilience is made of. Using the pressure and shifts that can knock us down to bounce back stronger amidst the chaos and internal battles.
Scholars define resilience as the ability to adapt well in the face of adversity, trauma, tragedy, threats, or significant sources of stress, which ironically is the definition of daily life as a woman business owner, right?!
When I was thinking of getting a tattoo, it was a no-brainer that I wanted a mighty mountain on my wrist to remind me of the power, groundedness, and protection of the sacred place that lives deep within my soul. But it goes so much deeper than that.
The silhouette of a mountain on my wrist is, first and foremost, a reminder that most of the mountains rising in front of us – the ones we find ourselves trudging up and struggling with – are of our own creation. Through the years, so many mountains I felt I needed to climb have been ones that I created based on broken beliefs, self-sabotage, or unempowering stories.
This reality was driven home and unlocked by Brianna Wiest’s amazing book The Mountain is You.
The second meaning of my tattoo is a gentle reminder that in any situation, we all have a choice: not to dig in and “die on this mountain.”
A long time ago, a mentor of mine told me that you can be “right, or you can be in relationship,” and while that stung in the moment, it hit me to my core.
How many conflicts, resentments, arguments, and hurt feelings could I have avoided if I had just let it go instead of digging in and being self-righteous? I could have surrendered and recognized that being in relationship and working together was more important than my being right.
I am not saying that I allow myself to get run over or do not choose moments to stand up for what I believe. No, I realized that most of those indignant moments of conflict were of my own creation, and most likely were insignificant enough to truly matter in the long run.
My tattoo’s third meaning is the one most intertwined with resilience. It is a reminder that scaling any mountain is done one step at a time. As a recovering perfectionist and people-pleaser, my hardest shift and growth edge came when I finally recognized that I don’t have to climb a mountain in a single bound or have it all figured out before I take the first or next step.
Sometimes I just need to reach deep, be brave, and take that shaky, uncertain first step, even if I don’t know how or why.
The hardest period of resilience was from August 2024 to April 2025, when everything I based my sense of self-worth on was suddenly stripped away.
My business took a pretty catastrophic free fall off a revenue cliff, and all the weight of responsibility I had been carrying finally broke me.
It seemed like overnight, I went from having more than enough and living my best life to being emotionally overwhelmed, struggling to keep my head above water, feeling like everything made me cry, and wondering if I would be able to stay ahead of all my business and personal bills. It was unlike anything I had ever been through. It was humbling to a level that rocked me to my bones.
I was plagued by self-doubt, darkness, and a depression I wasn’t sure I could shake. I remember morning after morning waking up mad that God hadn’t taken me in the night.
I hadn’t wanted to truly take my own life, but gosh, did I want God to take it for me. I just wanted to go to bed and make the pain, sadness, shame, and darkness end. I wanted to break out of its stranglehold but had no idea how.
Like so many other high performers (and hyperly independent women), I also struggled to tell people what was really going on and let them in so they could support me, even if it was just with a hug or a nonjudgmental ear to listen.
I was raised in a family where we were told not to air our dirty laundry. Pair that with having a very emotionally volatile father, I was conditioned that my emotions and struggles didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was not rocking the boat or causing anyone else stress because of me.
So for weeks and weeks, I suffered in silence. I would smile on the outside, but the nuclear war was raging on the inside. A war that I truly wasn’t sure if I was going to survive, or if, I’m being truly honest, not sure it was one I wanted to survive. I didn’t know who I was when you stripped all my responsibilities away. Without my success. Without the revenue. Without the money piling up in the bank. What was left?
I wasn’t sure how to just be me without all the spinning plates of responsibilities and “metrics of success” that I had allowed to define me as worthy—not worthy, successful—not successful, and happy—not happy.
The greatest irony was that during this time, the darkest moment in my adult life, I was selected out of hundreds of people here in Austin as one of the few finalists for the Austin Under 40 Business Awards. I would find out on May 10th if I won. Little did I know that a choice I made about this award amidst the chaos, self-doubt, and unworthiness would be the biggest life lesson I have ever had.
A life lesson that would finally shake me to my soul, hard enough that I would irrevocably break loose from the eddy of people pleasing and putting everyone else before me that I had been in for as long as I could remember.
You see, May 10th, in addition to the day of the awards Gala, where I would find out if I won, also happened to be the day of my grandmother’s 90th birthday in Colorado. I spent weeks going back and forth, trying to figure out what to do. I couldn’t be in two places simultaneously, so what was the right choice??
The guilt of 38 years of conditioning was eating me alive. If I went and didn’t win, I would feel the crushing guilt of missing her birthday. If I went to Colorado and did win… Well, honestly, that thought didn’t even cross my mind. I was so far down the deep, dark hole of despair and shame that I couldn’t even see the possibility that I would win the award.
Fast-forward to that day in May. I am sitting in the dining room of my grandmother’s house after dinner, and my phone lights up. It was a FaceTime call from my best friend who was at the gala, and my heart sank.
I just knew. I won.
I won, and I wasn’t there.
The emotions hit me like a tidal wave. The excitement lasted maybe 15 seconds, and then I was lost in a cloud of despair.
I never expected the grief of “missing my moment” to be that soul-crushing. If I am honest, I never expected that I would win and be 1200 miles away, missing my moment in the spotlight. Missing the photos, the congratulations, the energy, and the moment of finally being recognized for all my hard work.
The moment I thought would finally make me feel successful enough that I could use it as proof to tell my itty bitty shitty committee of self-doubt and unworthiness to shut the fuck up.
For the next week, any time someone congratulated me, I cried. I sobbed my eyes out
because I missed it and couldn’t shake the grief. It took me a few weeks to recalibrate and finally be able to see it for the beautiful lesson it was.
I think the grief I felt wasn’t so much about this moment in time; it was about all the cumulative moments in time that I hadn’t shown up for me.
For the moments when I downplayed my wins or successes.
For the moments when I didn’t want to shine too bright and make others uncomfortable.
For the moments I played small, when I sacrificed and chose someone else’s happiness over mine.
For those moments of subconscious sabotage keeping me from the life and vision I said I wanted.
Do I regret being there with my grandmother? No, her memory and health are declining, and I would never regret spending time with my family. I do regret not being able to pull myself out of the mud long enough to see and create a win-win situation.
Not seeing the possibility of having my family come to Austin to celebrate ME and this huge
honor, and in turn, celebrating my grandma here too.
I couldn’t be in two places at once, but they could. That was the win-win I couldn’t see that caused the soul crack and 2×4 lesson between the eyes I needed.
And that, that is what I think resilience really is—having moments that break you wide open. Moments that shatter every shackle and shadow perception we have been holding on to so that when we reemerge and open our eyes again, we can’t unsee the new reality.
Resilience is the ability to have life kick the absolute shit out of us and then get back up, skinned knees and all, and say, you will not keep me down. You will not beat me.
It is reclaiming our power, learning from the lessons, standing in our light… and saying, “This is not the mountain I am going to die on.” Resilience is knowing you have the power to move mountains and that all mountains are climbed the same way, one step at a time.
They say you don’t have to see the whole path, you just have to take the next step.
So from me to you, I see you. I believe in you. Take that next step, and the next, until one day you’ll look down from the summit with pride swelling in your soul to see just how far you’ve come. You got this. Keep being resilient (and don’t forget to ask for support).
xx
Lauren
To me, Being Resilient A.F. means the ability to get the absolute sh*t kicked out of you by life and not letting it keep you down. Instead, learning from it, honing yourself through the struggle, pain, and emotions to come back as an even more invincible version of yourself, and reclaiming your power.
My best advice is that it takes tremendous strength to reach out and ask for support. Asking for support doesn’t make you weak; it is one of the strongest things you can do to trust your inner circle at your most vulnerable to help you see the light in the darkness. It helps you see more clearly what is clouded and that even in your darkest hour, it is temporary and you will get through it, even if it doesn’t feel like it in the moment.
Are you ready to share your story of RESILIENCE? You can do that HERE.