When You Can’t Stop Doing It All

There was a long season where I wore “I’ve got it” like a uniform. Single mam life will do that to you. You learn how to hold everything because someone has to. You do the school run then the emails then the bills then the washing then the big feelings at bedtime. You remember the PE kit and the dentist form and the outfit for World Book Day. 

You’re the only adult in the room at 3am when your little person is sick and the only adult again at 7am when it’s time to leave the house for work for a full day of adulting. You get good at coping because there isn’t another option. 

Life changes but the habit doesn’t. You keep carrying it all even when you don’t have to.

A few weeks ago on retreat I strained my back. I couldn’t bend properly and when the women asked if I needed anything my mouth said, “No” before my body could answer. That was the moment I realised – independence had become armour. Not the strong kind. The heavy AF kind. The kind that keeps you safe and keeps you separate at the same time.

The weight nobody sees

Doing it all looks capable from the outside. Inside it can feel like a knot in your stomach that never fully loosens. It’s the mental list that never ends and the silence after bedtime where you finally sit down then remember three more things. It’s replying, “I’m fine” because saying, “I need help” lands like a debt you’ll have to repay. It’s the fear that if you put one thing down something important will drop and it will be on you.

There’s a particular loneliness to being the person who handles everything. You want support and you don’t know how to receive it without feeling weak. You want to be soft and you’re scared that softness will cost you. You get used to reading the room and smoothing the edges because that’s how the day keeps moving. You stop noticing how tight your jaw is. You call exhaustion normal. You forget what it feels like to be looked after without having to earn it.

This is what independence as armour feels like. Not proud. Heavy. It keeps you safe from disappointment and it keeps you away from the closeness you actually crave. It tells you you’re strong because you don’t ask. Then it punishes you for being tired.

Learning to be held

These days I practice the smallest brave things. Saying yes when yes would help. Letting someone carry the bag to the car even though I can. Sitting still when I want to jump in and fix. Saying, “I need” rather than “I’m fine.” None of that makes me less. It makes me honest.

I remind the part of me who had to do it all that she’s safe now. She doesn’t have to earn love by carrying the world. She can put some of it down and the sky won’t fall. She can be strong and supported. She can be held and still be the woman who gets things done. The truth is I’m more effective when I’m not running on empty. I’m kinder. I’m clearer. I’m me.

If any of this lands with you please hear me… you do not have to prove your strength by suffering. You don’t have to be the last one standing to be worthy of care. You can keep what makes you powerful and let go of what makes life harder than it needs to be. You can let support in without losing yourself.

Faith and Love,

Cheryl

Limitless – the coaching space for women done with over giving and moving into anchored power.