I Am My Own Hero

My uncle was talking to me the other day about shots. He said, "My one daughter can't stand them (she'll pass out every time.) But the other doesn't mind, she's tough." Tough is a word often portrayed by the muscular superheros of our childhood who had claimed the title because they could keep fighting even if they got a scratch. Because they could smash a car. Because they can keep being a hero even when they're hurt. That's the kind of tough everyone wants to be. The kind that gets back up when their pushed down. The kind that can have a vaccine injected into their arm with out flinching. But there is another kind of tough that, in my opinion, is far more impressive. It's the kind that subtle and often goes unnoticed. Under-appreciated, underrated, and far, far too overlooked. It's the tough that people don't boast or brag about; it's quiet. It's the tough that puts smiles on the faces of miserable souls. That puts tears on cheeks, only at night, because during the day their too busy pretending to be happy. The kind of tough that takes a lot more work than the heroic kind. The kind of tough that thrives in the demurest of people and that works without thinking. Heroes choose to be tough, most real people don't. It just comes naturally, like breathing. Once that terrible thing happens, that thing that changes your life, this kind of tough settles in right away. And it doesn't go away. People will try to scale the walls you have built, but they always end up falling. People will try to knock your walls down; trying to hurt you. But you've become immune to nasty words and hurtful slurs. This kind of tough is in every single person who's ever cried themselves to sleep, kept a dark secret, held their feelings inside, or never let themselves skip a beat, even at their lowest. These are the people who "stay strong" for themselves, not for attention. These people are the best society has to offer.