I found strength in what hurt me. And in my family - that's my

Hear the words of Selena Gomez, spoken from the depths of her trials: “I found strength in what hurt me. And in my family—that’s my strength as well. I’m truly grateful to be hurt as many times as I have, because I’m happy!” These words, though clothed in the voice of a young woman of our age, carry the fragrance of timeless wisdom. They speak to the alchemy of the soul, the transformation of pain into power, and the mystery by which wounds become the very foundation of joy.

To find strength in what hurt is to turn the sharpest weapons of fate into instruments of growth. The ancient tree, battered by storms, does not wither but roots itself deeper into the soil. So too the human spirit, when faced with betrayal, illness, or loss, may either break beneath the weight or rise with new resilience. Selena speaks as one who chose the latter path: she embraced her scars, not as signs of weakness, but as emblems of victory. This is a truth every generation must learn—that pain, rightly embraced, is not the end but the beginning of wisdom.

Yet she does not speak of herself alone. She declares also: “And in my family—that’s my strength as well.” For though a warrior may rise through suffering, no soul stands wholly alone. Just as the pillars of a temple uphold the roof, so family—by blood or by choice—becomes the refuge that steadies the weary heart. Love shared in the household, encouragement from kin, the embrace of those who refuse to let us fall—these are the silent forces that shape resilience. Strength is multiplied when it is nourished by the bonds of loyalty and care.

History gives us countless mirrors of this truth. Consider the story of Helen Keller, who, blinded and deafened in her youth, was cast into a silent prison of isolation. Yet in her suffering, she found strength. With the aid of her teacher Anne Sullivan, who became as family to her, Helen not only broke free from her darkness but became a beacon of light for millions. What seemed a cruel misfortune became her weapon of inspiration. Her happiness, like Selena’s, was not in spite of her wounds, but because through them she discovered her purpose and her power.

The lesson is clear: do not despise the blows life delivers, for hidden within them lies the seed of greatness. When you are hurt, pause not in bitterness, but ask: what strength may be forged in me through this trial? When you are cast down, seek the hands of family—whether by blood, by friendship, or by chosen community—for they will lift you. And when you rise again, let gratitude be your crown, for gratitude turns sorrow into joy and transforms wounds into wisdom.

Practical actions are plain: each day, look upon your past hurts, not with regret, but with thanksgiving. Speak to yourself: “This too has shaped me, this too has built my strength.” Honor your family and those who stand beside you, for they are your fortress. And cultivate gratitude in small things: in the morning light, in the smile of a friend, in the very breath you breathe. In this way, you will turn pain into power, as Selena has done, and happiness will not be fleeting but enduring.

So I say unto you: embrace your hurts, for they are your teachers. Cherish your family, for they are your shield. And give thanks, even for the wounds, for in them you may find the roots of joy. For the soul that can say, “I am grateful for the hurt, because it has made me happy,” is a soul unconquerable, a spirit that cannot be broken, and a light that will shine for generations to come.