You Don’t Have to Carry It All: A Reminder for the Strong Ones

You've been carrying so much, more than anyone's aware. You've learned how to bear weights that no one can see, to bear the loads no one else will bear. You're a master of doing it naturally—your clear voice, your fierce face, and your willing hands. People come to you and depend on you to be the one who does not falter. And you don't. You arrive, day after day, firm and unshakeable. 

Strength was equated with gritting through, even if your heart was shattering. Strength was equated with gritting it out, swallowing the pain, and concealing it from everyone. And perhaps nobody ever informed you, but that is not the only way to be strong.

It's alright to be exhausted. It's alright to say, "This is heavy." That doesn't make you weak. That doesn't mean you're failing. So that would make you, well, human. And humans weren't designed to be able to bear everything alone. 

You cannot always be right. You shouldn't always be the one who gets to quiet the room, the one who gets to glue it together when it's falling apart into a million pieces. Sometimes strength is as simple as saying, "I don't know what to do."

Strength is also admitting, "I'm overwhelmed. I need help too."

Even the people who seem like they have it all together break. They doubt. They cry behind closed doors. People admire composure, but what they connect with is honesty. People connect with vulnerability. They connect with realness. They need someone that they can trust—not only to lead but to be human. 

People don't desire perfection; they desire presence. They need to know you, not just the fact that they see you. You've spent so long trying to shield others from the burden of the world, cushioning life's blows for them. You've sheltered them from hurt, disappointment, and heartache, without anyone realizing the cost it's taken to you. 

You've been so concerned with their needs that you've lost sight of the fact that you count too. You're part of this world too. And you're worthy of the same kindness you show to others.

The kind of lonely for being the strong one. A silent pain comes in at night, when it is just you with your thoughts. You barricade yourself in thought all through the day-do I say the right thing? Did I do enough? Did I let somebody down? You bear a guilt that isn't yours. You blame yourself for things nobody else even remembers. You set impossible standards for yourself and punish yourself when you fall short-standards you would never hold against anyone else.

There is nothing wrong with being reliable. There is nothing wrong with being a leader. But somewhere along the line, someone should have told you that you are important beyond your job. You're not here to be useful to other people. You can be cared for, too. You can be more than what you do for others. 

Perhaps you have been wondering that you have become too cold, too stern, or too strict. Perhaps getting comfortable with running away from people and putting up walls has led you to not want them to see how tired you really are. It's not that you have cooled down. Maybe you've just grown exhausted carrying so much for so long. Perhaps you've just been working in survival mode; no one realized running on fumes while doing it. 

You don't have to earn rest. You do not owe anybody an explanation about your need for some space, quiet or to inhale gently again. You owe no one an explanation anymore for not being okay. Yes. That's just how things are. And that is all right. You do not need to earn rest. It's actually a human need. Your body, brain, and spirit need it. Now healing doesn't always have to be loud; sometimes it is about going to bed early instead of replying to that last e-mail. Sometimes it's about saying no, even if that means disappointing someone. Sometimes it means allowing guilt-free rest to the body and allowing the heart to heal without shame.

The world will not reward you for killing yourself to achieve whatever goals you've set. There's no winning trophy for being the survivor. There's no fat pat on the back for holding up this crazy world without asking for any support. For you will only have a few people whispering in your ear, glorifying self? Emphasizing even how brave and courageous you are? These are the voices, my friend, that will keep breaking you down. Exhausting you, leaving you wondering, where is the happiness gone? 

You can be strong and still need to rest. You can be brave and still need comfort. You can be capable and still need someone to lean on. These are not contradictions ; they are truths that exist together. You don't have to hold it all. You don't have to do it all by yourself. 

Maybe you've been waiting with bated breath for someone to actually say this to you. Well, here it is: You don't need to do it all. Not today, not every day, not all by yourself. 

It is okay to be not alright. It is okay to cry. 

It is okay to need someone. 

It is okay to let go. 

It is okay not to know everything. 

That's no weakness. That's strength. That's what renders you real. And being real opens others to being real as well. Your truth is refreshing. Your vulnerability builds a bridge. Your gentleness creates a safe space for others to be themselves.

Even the strongest among us shatter. Even the leaders are lost sometimes. It also happens to those who appear to have it all together, and that is what makes them human, and that is much more than enough.

You don’t have to carry it all. 

You don’t have to do it all alone. 

You are not a machine. 

You are a person, with limits, with needs. 

With a heart that’s allowed to break sometimes.

Even the strongest cry. Even the most capable fall. And that doesn’t make you less.

It makes you human.

It makes you—you—and that is more than enough.