Amy Morin was only 23 when her life started to come undone.
Fresh out of grad school, she was excited to step into her new job as a therapist, proud of her first home, and happily married.
Everything seemed lined up, like she was on track to live the life she’d planned, to move toward a future she felt she’d earned.
But sometimes, life shifts without warning, and for Amy, it started with a phone call.
Her sister called one day, voice shaky, explaining that their mother had been found unresponsive.
It didn’t make any sense—Amy’s mother was only 51, healthy, full of life.
By the time Amy arrived at the hospital, her mother was gone.
A brain aneurysm, the doctors said.
No warning, no signs.
Just there one moment and gone the next.
Amy’s mother had always been the kind of person who woke up saying, “It’s a great day to be alive,” and now, that light was just… gone.
Amy grieved the way she’d been trained to, the way she knew how as a therapist.
She leaned on her training, going through each stage of loss, piece by piece.
But knowing the steps didn’t make it any easier.
Losing her mother left a hole that no process could fill.
Three years later, on the anniversary of her mother’s death, Amy was invited to a basketball game with some friends.
It was supposed to be a night to reconnect, a distraction.
But the game was in the same auditorium where Amy had last seen her mother alive, and the weight of that memory almost made her say no.
After some hesitation, she and her husband, Lincoln, decided to go, hoping it might even help her honor her mother’s memory.
That night, surrounded by friends and the sounds of the game, Amy felt something shift.
For the first time, she was able to think of her mother and smile, remembering her warmth and laughter without the sharp ache of loss.
She left feeling lighter, as if a small part of her grief had lifted.
It was a moment of relief, a reminder that life could carry on.
But as if to remind her of life’s harshness, the night took another turn.
Not long after they got home, Lincoln said he didn’t feel well.
It wasn’t anything specific, just a vague discomfort, but within minutes, he collapsed.
Amy called for an ambulance, her mind racing back to the day she lost her mother.
She held her breath, hoping it was just a scare, that this wouldn’t be another tragedy.
When the doctor finally came out, he led Amy and Lincoln’s family into a private room.
There was no sugarcoating it: Lincoln was gone.
He’d had a heart attack, completely unexpected, and at only 26, he left Amy alone.
Just like that, everything was shattered again.
At 26, Amy found herself a widow.
She had no mother to turn to, no partner to lean on.
In that overwhelming silence, she came to understand that even all her good habits, all her resilience and training, weren’t enough.
Life doesn’t keep a tally; it doesn’t let you catch your breath just because you’ve already known loss.
In the days that followed, Amy realized something essential about mental strength.
She saw that bad habits—small, unassuming thoughts and beliefs—could chip away at whatever strength she had.
She sat down and made a list, a list of all the mental traps she knew could keep her stuck.
She wrote down everything she’d seen hold herself and others back, reminders of the thoughts that had no place in her life if she wanted to move forward.
The list became a guide, a daily reminder that life wasn’t going to be fair, that she couldn’t expect it to ease up because she’d been through so much already.
This realization was hard, but it was also freeing.
She understood that no cosmic balance would reward her for enduring pain; there was no trade-off, no compensation for her suffering.
If she wanted peace, if she wanted to live fully again, she had to find it herself.
So here’s the lesson she took from it all:
Life isn’t fair, and it’s not supposed to be.
The world doesn’t owe you anything, no matter what you’ve endured.
And the strength you find to face that truth? That’s the strength that will carry you forward.
Because in the end, mental strength isn’t just about building yourself up; it’s about letting go of the thoughts and beliefs that hold you back, clearing the space to build the life you want, even when life doesn’t meet you halfway.
This post was inspired by Amy Morin's Ted Talk, The Secret of Becoming Mentally Strong.