The Hidden Cost of ‘Holding It Together’
From the outside it can look like you’re managing – it might even look like you’re managing well. You show up, you respond, you keep things moving. You’re the one who holds things together and nobody ever needs to worry about you. In fact, they lean on you because you’ve always got it together.
People see you as reliable, dependable, calm under pressure. You’re the one who just gets on with it and says you’re fine. You don’t make a fuss or create drama about things and you can always take that ‘one more thing’. Being the strong one is often applauded and quietly encouraged. It might be something that you’ve been proud of. It can feel good to know that you’ve held things together for others. You’re the one they can count on. The strong one is a label that can easily become your identity and it might be one that you want to hold onto because….who are you if not that?
What isn’t always apparent, possibly even to yourself, is what it costs you to maintain that version of yourself. It takes a lot of unseen effort to stay on top of everything. When you’re taking care of things for yourself and for others, that’s already a lot. Then there’s the extra effort you put into monitoring yourself, keeping yourself in check, thinking back over things that have happened and questioning them, and planning ahead so you can keep holding everything together. Somehow you manage, even when you’re tired and things feel like too much.
As time goes on – and so do you – the effort adds up. You might notice it showing up as constant low-level exhaustion. This is when the tired runs deeper and isn’t fixed by an early night. You might have difficulty switching off. It could be your mind racing onto the next thing or a past thing or both. Or your thoughts could be fixed on the things you could be doing instead of trying to go to sleep (which then adds a dose of guilt into the mix). It can also be your body – perhaps your muscles refuse to relax and physical tension remains. You might feel disconnected, as if you’re going through the motions. Almost observing your life instead of living it. You may have a sense of always being ‘on’ as if your life is a performance and you’re playing a role that you’re unable to stop. Some or all of these may be happening for you even in the moments that are supposed to be restful. They may become more apparent when you’re trying to rest because there are fewer distractions.
So, if it’s so tiring and takes so much effort, why is it so hard to stop being the reliable one? There are a few possibilities for what might be holding you in place: when you’ve been doing things a certain way for a long time and you’re used to being seen a certain way, that version can feel like the acceptable identity. This makes you question the rest of you, the parts you don’t let others see. Are those parts unacceptable? How can the self-questioning, second-guessing, hypervigilant overthinker also be the strong one? You might worry that things will fall apart if you let go or that if others see a different side of you they might judge you. Then there’s the nagging question at the back of your mind: ‘What if I can’t pick it all back up again?’ So you keep going. You push through because you know how to do that, whatever it costs you.
Holding it all together is a skill and it takes energy. However, doing it constantly will take its toll. This is something you deserve to be able to put down sometimes. Really put down. And sometimes what looks like rest from the outside doesn’t feel very restful at all. Your body might have stopped, while your mind is still thinking, planning and preparing.
There’s a certain kind of strength in holding it all together for people (including yourself). There are a lot of other kinds of strength as well though. So what about the strength that doesn’t involve being the capable one? What about the strength to recognise that you don’t have to be the one constantly moving things forward all the time? How might it feel if you could recognise when you can soften and step back? How might it feel if you could let yourself be supported when you need it? This isn’t about failing, it’s about being human.
You don’t have to be the one who always manages alone. If you’ve been quietly carrying a lot and the things we’ve been exploring here resonate, remember that it’s okay to reach out for support.
