(And Why I Became a Therapist)
I didn’t grow up thinking, One day I’ll become a therapist.
I grew up learning how to read a room before I could name my own feelings.I learned how to be responsible, capable, and helpful. I learned how to hold things together... quietly and sometimes with humor to entertain everyone around me.
Like many eldest daughters, I learned early that being “good” meant being dependable. You don’t ask for help when others are already overwhelmed. You don’t take up space when people need you to be steady. You figure it out. You adapt. You manage.
And for a long time, that skill set was praised.
“She’s so mature.”“She’s so strong.”“She’s the one we can count on.”
What no one talks about is the cost of that strength.
Over time, asking for help doesn’t just feel uncomfortable, it feels unsafe, indulgent, or EVEN selfish.
So we stop asking.
We tell ourselves:
I’ll handle it.
Other people need support more than I do.
I don’t want to be a burden.
Or I can do it well so why even ask.
And eventually, we don’t even notice how much we’re carrying. The weight just becomes normal.
What looks like confidence from the outside is often hyper-responsibility on the inside. What looks like resilience is often a nervous system that learned early not to rely on anyone else. With time YOU have to learn to choose what's right and when to let go.