Written by Michelle Lauren Anderson on January 03, 2025
—Dr. John Delony
At just 2 years old, I was burned over 91% of my body. If being burned to that severity taught me anything as a young child, it was to 'toughen up,' and that my emotional well-being didn't matter and that strength meant shutting out how I felt and pain, being 'tough,' and being able to go through severe pain and still 'function.'
And this is what I did.
'Toughen up' was my motto. This helped me survive and take the pain of recovering from all the painful procedures that were demanded to recover from burns all over my body. Although the procedures were necessary for me to gain full mobility and functionality of my body, they pushed me into a state of constant repression of pain, my needs, and my emotions. This motto is how I reached 'success,' beat the odds, and exceeded the predictions that the doctors had put on me. However, the very mentality that saved me and made me a survivor and strong as a child would later try to destroy me in adulthood.
Reframing what it means to be strong meant unlearning this 'toughen up' mentality. Slowly, I would learn the things that made me 'strong' as a child and made me a survivor were now causing me to fall victim in my adult life. This meant I would now have to unlearn them and learn new, healthier ways to be a thriver as an adult.
I would unlearn the 'toughen up' mentality and learn new skills to be a thriver through many life experiences:
After getting a chronic wound that had difficulty healing on its own and later required surgery, I learned my childhood way of constantly pushing my body didn't work anymore; I now had to listen to what my body was telling me, rest, and take care of it.
Strength now meant not pushing myself past my limits and meant learning to take care of myself.
I later started to develop physical illness and physical symptoms due to repressed emotions and unresolved trauma. The repression that once saved me now turned into post-traumatic stress as an adult. The repression that once saved me was now causing me harm.
Strength now meant I had to learn to express my emotions in a healthy way, and gain emotional intelligence.
As a child, I often felt I had to prove myself and my worth: prove that I could achieve things others thought I wouldn't, prove that I would beat the odds, prove that I would walk and talk again, and most importantly, prove that I am not what happened to me. But as I got older and reached 'achievement' this became exhausting. I learned trauma takes our worth and voice away from us and that there will always be people who don't see our worth, and it is up to us to surround ourselves with those who believe in us and don't set limits on us.
Strength now meant knowing my worth, and not needing to prove myself.
When I was younger, being independent and not needing anyone was considered a 'strength', and needing others was 'burdening' them. I worked hard for my independence, but now I would need to learn that we are only humans and all need others, and it is necessary to have support to thrive.
Strength now meant asking for help, seeking support, and if that person can't help, ask someone else.
When I was a child, I had to minimize my voice and my needs to 'fit in,' as my trauma and needs were often perceived as 'too much' for people, but this minimization pushed me into suppress myself and my needs. I would now have to learn to use my voice to advocate for my needs and state them.
Strength now meant advocating for myself and others, using my voice, and stating my needs.
When I was younger, I would put up with people mistreating me, believing it was all my fault, and if I changed, they would stop hurting me. As I got older, I learned their behavior is on them and not a reflection of me, and to observe others' behavior and then decide if I want to allow them in my life or not.
Strength now meant knowing when to walk away, and say 'no more.'
At the start of my career, I started in a job that had no boundaries, one that pushed and pulled me in every direction. I put up with it, because that is what I was used to as a trauma survivor. From this position, I learned about boundaries, and I need to be in a position where I have a voice and can say 'no' so I wouldn't fall victim - again.
Strength now meant I had to learn to set, and have strong boundaries.
I learned that just because I had been conditioned to endure pain and to have a high pain tolerance doesn't mean that I had to or needed to take it, and strength is not measured by how much pain I can continue to endure.
I find myself thanking the younger me, she went through so much too young. This repression was the only thing she knew to survive. Now as an adult, I have changed the 'toughen up' pattern that I once lived by and reframed what it means to be strong.
In adulthood strength now means putting my health first through self-care, gaining emotional intelligence, knowing my worth, knowing when to ask for help, stating my needs, having boundaries and knowing when to walk away. And by doing so, I am able to ensure I am healthy, and if I am healthy, I can put my best foot forward in everything I do.
Michelle Lauren Anderson, MA, MBA, is a Minnesota native. At 2 years old, she was burned on over 91% of her body. She learned how to navigate life with her scars on her sleeves. After attending a camp for burn survivors in Colorado, she fell in love with horses and spent years training and competing horses. She is now an Equine Specialist in Mental Health and Learning and a Certified Therapeutic Riding Instructor. When Michelle is not spending time with her animals, she is a consultant and is writing a book about her burn survivor journey. Visit her website for more information.
Photo credit: Jamie Sukow.