Resilience: the misunderstood concept

Resilience: The Misunderstood Concept 

'Resilience' is everywhere. It’s in school posters, wellness blogs, HR workshops. We’re told to build it, teach it, model it, and above all, to have it. But for all its popularity, resilience is rarely defined with depth

More often than not resilience is mistaken for toughness — bouncing back, staying positive, pushing through. As if to be resilient means to be immune. But in my clinical work, these traits often signal something else entirely: not resilience, but suppression. The stoic who carries on without complaint may seem strong, but often they are shut down and disconnecting from feelings of vulnerability. Real resilience isn’t about being unaffected. It’s about being affected and still being able to stay present and functioning.

Popular culture paints resilience as the ability to snap back after hardship, like a rubber band, but snapping back neatly and cleanly isn't always possible.Underneath this bounce-back fantasy is a deeper fear: a cultural discomfort with falling apart. We praise those who smile through grief, who say “I’m fine” when they’re breaking inside. We often reward detachment and dissociation without realising that's what we're doing.

 

A Better Frame: Feeling Without Being Flooded 

Therapists sometimes use the term affect tolerance. It’s a mouthful, but what it means is the ability to feel difficult feelings without feeling overwhelmed by them

 

In practice it looks like:

 - Feeling anxious without needing to control everything. 

 - Feeling fear without shutting down. 

 - Grieving without becoming numb. 

 - Sitting with pain without needing to escape. 

 

This isn’t innate. It’s built, first through co-regulation in childhood (a caregiver helping a child calm down), later through therapy, deep connection, or intentional emotional work. Ironically, real independence comes from first having had the safety to depend. 

 

The Resilience Illusion 

Some of the people who seem most “resilient” have learned to function at a high intensity while covering up their vulnerability. High performers, people-pleasers, chronic carers, even high-functioning addicts may look resilient while inwardly frayed. True resilience isn’t about having it all together. It’s about being able to fall apart without losing yourself completely. This is where emotional regulation comes in. We regulate either: 

- Internally (auto-regulation: self-soothing, mindfulness, grounding) 

- Relationally (dyadic regulation: being soothed by someone else) 

Most people lean too hard on one and neglect the other. Real resilience means we can draw on both. We can be alone and stay grounded, and we can reach out when we need to. Flexibility is key when it comes to emotional regulation.

 

Built in Relationship 

Attachment theory tells us: resilience isn’t rugged individualism. It’s not “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” It’s: how well you were supported during what nearly killed you. Children learn to tolerate frustration when someone helps them regulate fear. Adults learn to face grief when they’re allowed to feel it in the presence of another. Resilience, then, is relational. It’s built in connection. 

In therapy, this is the real work. Not just coping better, but relearning how to feel — in contact, in safety. To soften around pain instead of bracing against it so that a deeper and more fundamental kind of strength is developed.

 

The Danger of Mislabeling 

 Calling someone “resilient” because they’ve kept going can be misleading and even harmful. It can reinforce the very defences that are keeping them stuck. In men especially, this plays out as emotional disconnection. They’re praised for not needing help, for pushing through, but these are often adaptations to trauma not signs of health. Resilience shouldn’t be a performance. We shouldn’t reward people for suffering silently, for collapsing in private so they don’t disrupt others. 

 

Real Resilience Is Messy 

 Resilience is not a product. It’s a process. It doesn’t always look strong. Often, it looks shaky, slow, uncertain. To be resilient is to bend without breaking and sometimes to break, then come back differently. That’s the kind of resilience I try to support and nurture in therapy. Not the clean, shiny kind but the kind that comes from staying close to what hurts and discovering that you can

If you’re curious about emotional resilience and want to develop yours, or you’re struggling and looking for counselling in Berkhamsted, feel free to get in touch.

Call 07717 515 013 or email sean@seanheneghan.com