Creating Your Own Rainbow

“If you must endure the storm, you must ensure you find the rainbow.” -Annie Mae Edwards

Life will bring storms.

We can’t schedule them, prevent them, or soften their impact just by wishing them away.

Some come crashing in—sudden loss, betrayal, a diagnosis, a goodbye you didn’t expect to say.

Others are slower, quieter—emotional burnout, growing distance, restlessness that lingers without a name.

No matter the form, storms leave behind damage.

Not always visible. Not always dramatic.

But always felt.

A heaviness in the chest. A weariness behind the smile. A quiet ache you carry in places no one else can see.

And yet—sometimes, when the storm finally passes, you look up and there it is:

a rainbow.

Unexpected. Unannounced. Unmistakably beautiful.

It doesn’t fix everything, but it reminds you that everything might still be okay.

That healing is real. That growth happened.

That maybe, somehow, some way, it was all leading you somewhere.

Those are the easy rainbows.

The ones that show up when you need them most.

The ones that feel like grace.

But what happens when they don’t come?

What about the storm that leaves your world quiet but unchanged?

What about the pain that doesn’t lead to clarity—just confusion, exhaustion, and numbness?

What about when you get through it… but feel no better?

No rainbow. No meaning. Just aftermath.

Just the echo of what was lost, and the haunting question: Now what?

This is the part we don’t talk about enough. The part that’s hard to admit out loud:

Not every storm comes with a silver lining.

Not every ending feels redemptive.

And yet—this doesn’t mean the story is over.

This doesn’t mean hope is gone.

It simply means you’ll have to go looking for it.

Or even harder—you’ll have to make it yourself.

Because sometimes the rainbow doesn’t appear.

Sometimes you have to create it.

That doesn’t mean denying what you’ve been through.

It doesn’t mean pretending everything is okay.

It means giving yourself permission to keep going—

even without perfect closure,

even without all the answers,

even without a rainbow falling neatly into your lap.

Creating your own rainbow is a radical act of self-rescue.

And it looks different for everyone.

Sometimes it looks like:

-Saying no, when you’re used to saying yes just to avoid disappointing people.

-Letting yourself break down, and not judging yourself for it.

-Setting boundaries that protect your peace, even when they’re misunderstood.

-Choosing a quiet evening over a loud distraction, because you’re learning to listen to your heart.

-Talking to a therapist, journaling through the confusion, or simply admitting to someone, “I’m not okay, but I’m trying.”

Creating your rainbow doesn’t mean you’re okay. It means you’re choosing to believe that one day, you will be.

Even if that belief is the size of a mustard seed.

Even if all you can manage today is getting out of bed.

Even if you’re still hurting, still healing, still unsure.

You might not even realize it at first. You might be months, years down the road before you look back and realize:

That moment you kept going when you felt like giving up—

that was your rainbow.

That night you cried but still showed up for yourself in the morning.

That boundary you set.

That forgiveness you gave—maybe to someone else, maybe to yourself.

That was you, coloring hope back into your world.

You don’t have to wait for the sky to change.

You don’t have to wait for everything to feel right again.

You can start now.

You can start small.

-A moment of stillness.

-A deep breath.

-A kind word to yourself.

-A walk outside.

-A song that makes you feel something again.

-A phone call.

-A prayer.

-A poem.

All of it counts. All of it matters.

Because sometimes the most beautiful rainbows aren’t the ones that appear effortlessly—

they’re the ones we piece together with trembling hands from the debris the storm left behind.

They’re the ones no one else can see, but you know—deep down—they saved you.

So if you’re standing in the stillness after a storm, and the world looks gray…this is your gentle reminder:

You don’t have to wait for something beautiful to arrive. You’re allowed to make it.

You’re allowed to hope before you have a reason.

You’re allowed to believe in something brighter—even if you’ve been stuck in the dark for a while.

And even if it starts as just a whisper of color,

or a feeling you can’t quite explain—

that’s enough.

That’s the beginning.

So create your own rainbow.

Especially when you can’t see one.

Especially when the storm made you forget they even exist.

Why?

Because you deserve one.

Because your story is still unfolding.

Because sometimes the most beautiful rainbows are the ones we build ourselves—

from the broken pieces of everything we survived.