Learning The Difference

I've spent most of my life carrying things that weren't mine.

Not because anyone forced me to. Not because I was asked to. Mostly because somewhere along the way, I became comfortable with the weight of other people's struggles. It felt natural to step in, to help, to fix, to hold space, to make sure everyone else was okay before I ever stopped to ask myself if I was.

I don't think I realized how much of my identity had become tangled up in being the strong one until recently.

The one who figures it out. The one who stays. The one who absorbs the impact so someone else doesn't have to.

The thing about carrying people for long enough is that eventually you stop noticing how heavy they are. You just adjust your posture and keep walking.

Until one day you can't.

Lately I've been trying to understand a feeling that keeps showing up. It isn't anger. It isn't resentment. It isn't even fear exactly. It's more like standing at the edge of a familiar road and realizing I don't want to walk it again.

I know that road.

I know what happens when someone else's wellbeing starts determining my peace of mind. I know what happens when I start organizing my life around preventing disasters that haven't happened yet. I know what happens when I become more invested in someone's future than they are.

I disappear. Not all at once. Slowly. One compromise at a time. One exception at a time. One more chance. One more excuse. One more reason why it's different this time.

Until I look around and realize I've somehow become responsible for things that were never mine to carry in the first place.

The hardest part is that my heart still wants good things for people. I want healing for people. I want second chances and fresh starts and happy endings.

I just don't want to become the reason those things succeed or fail. That's a lot of pressure to put on another human being. And it's an even heavier pressure to place on myself.

Maybe that's what I'm learning.

Maybe I can care deeply without taking ownership. Maybe I can love people without feeling responsible for saving them. Maybe I can stand beside someone without becoming the ground beneath their feet.

I don't have all the answers yet.

I just know that lately I've been paying attention to the difference between supporting someone and carrying them.

For most of my life, I thought they were the same thing.

Now I'm not so sure.

And maybe that's where growth begins.

🥰🫖JustRealTea