What Happens When You're Always the Strong One?

When it was time to spread my dad's ashes, I knew what to do.

I had worked in a funeral home. I had handled cremated remains before. I understood the practical part of what needed to happen, so when my close family gathered to spread my dad's ashes, I focused on the task.

There was something useful about having a task.

I knew how to do this.

So I did it.

At one point, my mom commented that when her time came, I would be doing the same thing for her.

That was hard to hear.

I was already doing something painful because I knew how to do it, and there was suddenly a reminder that someday I would be expected to know how to do this again.

But I kept going.

It wasn't until we were back in the car—my brother and his wife, my mom and me—that I came apart a little.

The task was over.

There was nothing left for me to handle.

And there was some understanding in that car that what I had just done was different from the work I had done at the funeral home.

These weren't just ashes I knew how to handle.

This was my dad.

Being Able to Handle It Doesn't Mean It Isn't Hard

I think this is something we can miss about the people we call strong.

Often, they really are strong.

They know what to do.

They remain calm when something difficult happens. They make the phone calls. They understand the paperwork. They take care of the details. They figure out the next step.

Their competence is real.

Mine was that day too.

I didn't need someone to teach me what to do with my dad's ashes. I didn't need someone to take the task away from me simply because it was emotional.

But knowing how to do something and being unaffected by doing it are two entirely different things.

Being able to do the hard thing doesn't mean the hard thing isn't happening to you, too.

That's the part we can forget when someone is particularly capable.

How Someone Becomes "The Strong One"

In families, friendships and workplaces, people tend to find their roles.

There's the person who organizes.

The person who stays calm.

The person everyone calls.

The person who can have the difficult conversation.

The person who knows what to do in an emergency.

The person who will figure it out.

Over time, other people begin to trust that person with more.

And the strong person may begin to trust that identity too.

I can handle it.

Often, they can.

Years later, I heard the song “Surface Pressure” from Disney's Encanto. Luisa is the strong one in her family—the person everyone trusts with the things that are too heavy for everyone else. The song hit me much harder than I expected.

I understood her.

There is a strange thing that can happen when people know you're capable. The fact that you can carry something can become the reason you're expected to carry it.

But being strong enough to carry the weight doesn't mean the weight isn't heavy.

There can even be something deeply reassuring about knowing you're capable when life becomes difficult. Strength can help us get through experiences we never would have chosen.

The problem isn't being strong.

The problem comes when "You're strong" begins to mean "You don't need anything."

Those aren't the same thing.

Strength Can Hide What Something Costs You

When someone is visibly falling apart, people often know what to do.

We move closer.

We ask if they're okay.

We offer help.

We understand that they're struggling.

But capable people don't always give us those obvious signals.

They may be doing exactly what needs to be done.

They may sound calm on the phone.

They may have the answer.

They may show up on time, make the arrangements, take care of everyone else and remember the thing everyone else forgot.

From the outside, they look fine.

Sometimes they may even feel fine while they're doing it.

I was focused while I was spreading my dad's ashes.

That focus wasn't fake. I wasn't pretending not to have feelings. I had something in front of me that needed my attention, and I gave it my attention.

My feelings hadn't disappeared.

They were still there when I got back in the car.

The Strong One May Not Know How to Ask

There's another side to being known as the strong one.

When other people have confidence in your ability to handle things, it can become difficult to recognize the moment when you need care.

You may think you should be able to manage.

After all, you've handled hard things before.

People depend on you for a reason.

You know what to do.

So when something hurts, you keep functioning.

When you're overwhelmed, you solve the next problem.

When you're tired, you finish what needs to be finished.

And if you eventually reach the point where you can't keep doing that, needing help can feel strangely uncomfortable.

Not because there's anything wrong with needing it.

But because needing help doesn't fit very neatly with the role you've become accustomed to filling.

Capable People Need to Be Seen, Too

There's a question we tend to ask when someone is handling something difficult:

Do you need help?

It's a good question.

But perhaps there is another one worth asking:

How is this for you?

Those questions aren't asking the same thing.

A capable person may not need you to take over.

They may not need you to fix the problem.

They may not need instructions, advice or a solution.

They may simply need someone to recognize that what they're doing is hard.

That mattered to me after we got back into the car.

I don't remember the exact words or precisely how the compassion was expressed. What I remember is the understanding that this had been more than a task for me.

I had done something I knew how to do.

And I had just spread my father's ashes.

Both were true.

You Don't Have to Stop Being Strong

I don't think the answer is to reject strength.

I'm grateful for many of the things I know how to handle.

Being capable has served me well through some incredibly difficult experiences.

Strength can be a resource.

The problem is when it becomes the only version of us that other people—or we ourselves—are allowed to see.

You can be the person who knows what to do and still not want to do it.

You can make the arrangements and still be grieving.

You can keep everyone else calm and still need somewhere to fall apart later.

You can be dependable and exhausted.

You can know exactly what comes next and wish someone would notice how much it hurts to be the person doing it.

Strength doesn't cancel any of those things.

When Everyone Assumes You'll Be Okay

If you're usually the strong one, people may genuinely believe you are okay.

They aren't necessarily being uncaring.

They may have watched you handle difficult situations many times. They trust you. They admire your ability to keep going. They may even be taking their cues from you.

There can also be a point when being the person everyone relies on leaves you with more needs than one person can possibly meet. I wrote about that experience in Why Do I Feel Like Everyone Needs Something From Me?

And perhaps you've become very good at giving them the cue that you've got this.

That doesn't mean you've done anything wrong.

But it may mean there are parts of your experience that aren't being seen.

There is a difference between:

I can do this.

and

This isn't hard for me.

There is a difference between:

I'll take care of it.

and

I don't need anyone to take care of me.

There is a difference between strength and being untouched.

A Place to Put Down the Strong One Role

Maybe you've been the strong one in your family for years.

Maybe people call you when something goes wrong because they know you'll figure it out.

Maybe you're proud to be dependable.

And maybe you're tired.

Not necessarily tired of the people you love or even tired of helping them.

Maybe you're simply tired of feeling as though your ability to cope means no one needs to ask what something is costing you.

You don't have to become less capable to deserve care.

You don't have to fall apart before what you're carrying counts.

And you don't have to prove that something is difficult before you're allowed to talk about how difficult it is.

At HOLD, you don't need to be the person who has the answer. You can simply be the person having the experience.

There is room for that person too.

If you're usually the strong one, I hope someone remembers to ask how this is for you—and I hope you know you are allowed to answer honestly.

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Written by Deb Porter, founder of HOLD | Hearing Out Life Drama—a space for calm, confidential listening and real emotional clarity.