You Can’t Always Be the Strong One

No, I’m not talking bodybuilder, mountain climber, American Ninja Warrior strength. I’m talking emotional strength.

Has anyone else been coined as the emotionally “strong” one in your family? Or in your group of friends? The one people use as an example when they’re trying to follow a path to deal with hardships?

Same.

Don’t get me wrong. That is not something that I’m ashamed of. Quite the opposite. I’m proud of my strength and my resilience. Now, again, I haven’t gone through much trauma in my life. I know there are millions of people mentally “stronger” than me who have gone through much worse. This is just my side of the story.

I’ve been told that I’m strong on many occasions. Whether that involves relationship struggles, family struggles, mental illness, etc. I’ve always taken it as a compliment. 

But everyone falls apart eventually. Some are just better at hiding it than others. Life can put us in situations where we are forced to be strong even when we feel helpless and weak. Society sort of pressures us to show strength and not express our weaknesses. It’s almost like exposing a weakness will allow vulnerability. Vulnerability will then allow someone or a situation to break you, and once you’re broken, putting the pieces back together seems impossible.

We become so good at portraying strength, and once it’s validated, we trick others into believing we have everything under control. Like we don’t need any help.

But recently, I’ve found that being “strong” wasn’t really protecting me as much as I thought.

When I went through some recent breakups, I would talk with my family and my friends about how I was feeling, but I also felt a little pressured to prove that I was making progress in “getting over it.”

Even though my friends were absolute angels about supporting me through it, I still felt like I owed it to them and myself to EXUDE strength and mental stability through it. But what I didn’t know at the time, was that by doing that I was holding a lot of the deeper hurt, trauma, and sadness inside. I was focusing on the positive parts of the process, but not really giving myself time to feel my feelings.  

I’ve always been proud of my innate ability to see the glass half full, as if it was the only option if I wanted to survive any negative situation in my life. But keeping my deeper emotions inside made my physical health suffer. I was dealing with anxiety during this time and even though I was taking medicine to combat the symptoms, the added stress of these emotions started to weigh on me. I would frequently feel sick and nausea became a normal part about waking up. I wasn’t eating, and I used exercise to release some of the negative energy and hurt. Which helped, but only a little.

One night, I finally allowed myself to sit in the situation that I was in. I had a very deep conversation with one of my friends and detailed different parts of my relationship that I hadn’t known at the time were toxic and scary. My emotions finally bubbled to the surface. I ended the conversation with her and went to bed. I cried for hours. It was the first time since the immediate shock that I actually allowed my sadness and dread to sink in.

Lol, it sucked. But I was finally able to get some clarity about how messed up what I went through was. I was able to process it. The following months, I was able to sit with it, and understand it. I was able to forgive myself for letting myself down and staying in a relationship with more red flags than I could count.

I was finally vulnerable with myself.

And that’s just it.

After going through this situation and others after it, I finally realized that vulnerability = strength. Being strong isn’t about putting up walls so high, that you’re constantly scared that they will crumble. It’s not about putting on a façade of positivity and being unbothered.

Strength is about being vulnerable. Letting yourself jump into the unknown. Taking time to sit in your uncomfort. Letting your emotions take over.

You’re a human. Your emotions are valid and they’re our greatest teachers. Yes, they can cloud judgement, but when we become more comfortable with understanding them, we gain clarity. What’s the good in ignoring them?

You can’t always be the strong one. And you shouldn’t have to be.

You don’t have to fight the battle alone either. By opening yourself up to vulnerability and admitting when you’re going through it, you allow yourself to receive love. To receive support.

Falling apart is nothing to be ashamed of. No one should expect you to carry anything on your own.

You don’t have anything to prove. You’re a beautiful human being, who should act as such.

Talk soon,

Hannah

P.S. I’d love to hear your thoughts about strength. It’s insanely layered. I want to learn about you 😊