It took a long time for me to put a smile on my face over the

Hear the words of Deshaun Watson, spoken from the depths of trial and triumph: “It took a long time for me to put a smile on my face over the course of my lifetime, and my experience of what I’ve been through on and off the field.” These are not the words of one who has known only ease, but the confession of a soul that has walked through storms. In them, we hear the echo of suffering endured, of victories hard-won, and of a smile not born of shallow joy, but of resilience forged in fire.

The meaning of this truth lies in the nature of struggle. To many, the smile is seen as simple, natural, effortless. But to those who have carried burdens heavy and unseen, it is a rare jewel, hard-earned, precious. Watson reminds us that sometimes the road to joy is long, winding through valleys of pain and disappointment. His words testify that the smile he carries now is not the mask of pretense but the fruit of endurance—an emblem of survival both “on and off the field,” where battles of body and spirit alike tested his strength.

History itself offers many who speak through silence and scars. Recall the tale of Nelson Mandela, imprisoned for twenty-seven years. Those who saw him upon his release remarked on his radiant smile. It was not the smile of a man untouched by suffering, but the smile of one who had wrestled with despair and conquered it. Like Watson, Mandela’s smile was the harvest of a lifetime, a victory of spirit that no chain could wither. It is in such examples that we see the truth: joy means little when it is effortless, but when born from hardship, it becomes divine.

The field Watson speaks of is more than sport. It is the stage of life itself, where countless eyes demand performance, where pressure carves its mark into the soul. To endure there is one thing; to endure beyond it, in the hidden battles of the heart and home, is another. His words remind us that what we see of others is but a fraction of their story. The smile we admire may have been purchased at great cost, with years of perseverance, disappointment, and unseen tears. We are called, then, to honor such smiles not as mere expressions but as symbols of triumph.

There is also within his words a teaching about time. “It took a long time,” he says. This is wisdom: that healing is not swift, nor is peace easily claimed. In an age that demands instant gratification, Watson’s confession is a reminder that true joy grows slowly, like a tree planted in stony soil. The patient soul, who endures through seasons of drought and storm, will one day bear fruit—and that fruit is the smile that no hardship can erase.

The lesson for us, O seekers of wisdom, is clear. Do not envy the smiles of others without knowing the story behind them. And in your own struggles, do not despair when joy seems far away. Understand that it may take time, perhaps years, to reclaim peace—but that in the journey itself, your soul is being tempered into something unbreakable. Let Watson’s words remind you that every trial can one day be transformed into a smile, if you endure with patience and faith.

Therefore, let each one act thus: embrace your hardships as teachers, not enemies. Be patient with your healing, knowing that time works with you, not against you. And when your smile finally returns, let it shine as a testimony—not of a life without pain, but of a spirit unbroken by it. In this way, your face will reflect the eternal strength of the soul, and your life will become a beacon to those still walking in shadow.

Thus, the teaching is eternal: A smile born of ease is pleasant, but a smile born of struggle is sacred. To carry it upon your face is to declare to the world: I have endured, I have risen, and I am still here.