I discovered one of my favorite quotes as a teenager: “Face the darkness, stare it down and own it.” I love it for its sense of empowerment and self-determination, and for how broadly it applies to life. Darkness can represent the unknown, a difficult season or emotional hardship. What we’re willing to face, we have the power to transform. And our lives are absolutely worth taking a run at what we can change.

Yet human beings are remarkably good at pain avoidance. We know something is bothering us, but we tuck it away on a mental shelf. Or we cope with elaborate distractions — food, Netflix, alcohol, busyness, shopping, complaining. Some of us rely on denial, often unconsciously, which may be the hardest avoidance strategy of all to dismantle.

Avoidance doesn’t eliminate pain. It compounds it.

I couldn’t ignore my own issue as a teenager. I believed my relationship was everything. When we broke up — only to get back together dramatically a day later — I noticed something alarming: I felt bottomless, as though there was nothing to catch my fall. The feeling was frightening. I thought of a line from Jane Eyre: “She felt like the wind blowing through an empty house.” Teenage breakups can feel devastating, but I sensed this was bigger than heartbreak. I intuitively knew it had something to do with being raised in an alcoholic home and with being adopted.

I began seeing a therapist to understand the root of what I later learned was an abandonment issue. That decision was pivotal. It’s why I so deeply believe that if we don’t get to the heart of our issues, those issues quietly take the driver’s seat. They influence our relationships, our decisions and our sense of stability — often without our realizing it.

Because of that experience, I’m a strong advocate for youth mental health. I’ve seen how getting help works. I love that we now openly talk about mental health strategies like exercise, nutrition and sleep. Mindfulness and meditation matter. Rest and play matter. Relationships are foundational. My 13-year-old daughters might add “a good skin care routine” to this list.

All of these things are important. But they aren’t the whole story.

What we often sidestep is one of the most powerful tools for resilience: knowing ourselves deeply. Being able to look in the mirror and tell ourselves the truth about what’s really going on inside. This isn’t always about healing trauma. Sometimes it’s about recognizing a pattern, a belief or a fear that quietly derails us year after year. Sometimes it’s about developing such clarity that our inner voice becomes steady and trustworthy and our decisions finally align with what we truly want.

This is the work of resilience.

So how do we do it?

Get quiet and get help if needed.

Given my abandonment issues, it probably makes sense that decades ago I was terrified to live alone. I remember thinking, “What if something happens in the middle of the night that I can’t handle?” In fairness, I also watched far too much Dateline. Through therapy, I eventually reached a moment that’s still vivid to me: sitting on the floor of my first apartment, eating a salad before the movers arrived, feeling unexpectedly full with the thought “I love this. This feels so good.”

If you need help, please seek it. When we get quiet with ourselves — safely and with support, if necessary, answers emerge.

Avoidance makes our problems heavier. Is there something you carry from year to year that weighs you down? Something painful you keep sidestepping? What if you brought it into the light? You don’t have to resolve everything at once. Could you work through it bit by bit? We are far stronger than we think we are.

What am I avoiding?

Is there something I don’t want to look at?

What if I faced what I’m afraid of?

Is there something painful or problematic in my life that would benefit from being unpacked?

Tools like the DISC model, or the VIA Character Strengths Survey (viacharacter.org) don’t define us, but they can reflect patterns we might otherwise miss. Imagine having a personalized road map that highlights your strengths, obstacles, preferences and motivations. Knowing these things allows us to move through life with intention rather than reaction. Yes, life teaches us through trial and error, but the more we understand ourselves early on, the more time we spend exactly where we want to be.

As a teenager, I spent all my money on music and magazines. Today, music can pull me out of a funk faster than anything else. It motivates me to run, organize a closet or tackle a chore. Pair music with drudgery and it’s no longer drudgery. (The same goes for coffee shops.)

Magazines were another clue. I love the publishing world and the range it offers — from introverted editing to extroverted interviews. I don’t dread Mondays because my career aligns with what naturally lights me up. What do you gravitate toward, and what might it be telling you about how you want to spend your time?

School routes us through life like a mouse through a maze. Show up, do the work, advance to the next level. College continues the pattern. It’s a wonderful time to explore interests, but the structure is already built for us. After college, that structure disappears. We’re released into the real world without a map.

For people in their 20s, this can feel overwhelming. There’s an expectation that we should instantly know who we are, what we want and where we’re headed. We put enormous pressure on external achievement and far less emphasis on internal understanding. What if we changed that conversation earlier?

Not knowing ourselves is like not knowing the software running our lives. It’s easy to drift off course.

What if knowing ourselves could help prevent depression by identifying unhelpful thinking patterns or unresolved issues before they take hold?

What if clarity rooted us so deeply in our passions that we could better weather inevitable setbacks?

What if understanding how our minds work helped us become better friends, partners and parents?

Doing the inner work isn’t just for people who grew up in adverse circumstances. It’s for everyone. When you’re grounded in who you are, you can engage more fully with life. Facing our personal ghosts may be uncomfortable, but it’s often the shortest path to fulfillment.

Getting better starts with honesty with ourselves. What if instead of trying to feel better all the time, we focused on getting better?