“No pain, no gain.”
Countless times
I’ve heard this—
as I’ve said it too.
Is this something we 
should continue to advocate
for future generations?
I pause,
lost in another thought.

Pain gets glorified—
as if hurting is what makes us grow. 
Or yet,
it’s required to grow.
Is that really what pain is?

One lesson life has offered
is that pain is more of a signal—
a warning.
It whispers, or sometimes screams,
that something isn’t right.
That I need to stop, look closer,
maybe even change something.

Strain, though…
that’s different.
Strain is resistance.
It’s uncomfortable;
though not destructive.
It’s the kind of weight that teaches.
It’s tension that builds me,
doesn’t break me.

I think about lifting weights.
Strain means I’m working.
It burns, but it doesn’t injure.
Pain, though—
pain means I’ve pushed too far.
That something’s off.
So I have to question myself:
Why do I often ignore that distinction
in the rest of my life?

Mentally, I’ve felt both.
Pain that leaves me depleted,
spinning in circles,
wondering if I’m broken.
Then there’s strain—
those tough moments
where everything in me wants to quit—
I keep moving, though.
Those are the moments
that seem to change me the most.

Perhaps not every struggle is pain.
Perhaps it’s strain—
and that’s a strength, not a wound.

Strain feels worth facing.
Pain deserves care.
I think both can teach me something—
though each requires
its own response.

Instead of clinging to
“No pain, no gain,”
I need to start living by 
something more honest.
Like…
“No strain, no gain.”

If I’m hurting—
truly hurting—
maybe that’s not failure.
Maybe that’s a moment
to choose a different path—
a rare opportunity to offer myself
the same grace I’d give anyone else.