“I don’t know how you do it.” “You are so strong.”
If you are an immigrant, the eldest daughter, or the first in your family to break a ceiling, you have heard these phrases your whole life. People mean them as the ultimate compliment. They tell you that you are unbreakable, you know, a testament to your grit and capacity to endure. They label you “The Rock.”
However, we rarely discuss the real cost of being strong.
And for a long time, we wear that title with pride, like a badge of honour. We polish it. We show it off. We lean into the identity of the “Strong Black Woman” or the “Determined Survivor.” But lately? That badge feels heavy. It feels less like an award and more like a cage.
We need to talk about the economics of strength. Our communities often treat strength as a free, renewable resource. We act as if being “The Strong One” is just who you are, a personality trait.
It isn’t. Strength is expensive. And for many of you reading this, the bill has arrived.
The Hidden Cost of Being Strong
You do not pay the cost of being strong with money. You pay for it in softness.
When you train yourself to endure instability, to navigate uncertainty, to carry the family’s expectations, to be the one who “figures it out”, you train your nervous system to stay in a permanent state of “High Alert.”
You become efficient and capable. Overtime, you turn into the person everyone calls when things fall apart, to fix the problem.
But this efficiency steals your ability to power down.
- First, you find yourself unable to relax on weekends because “doing nothing” feels dangerous.
- Then, you feel a flash of irritation when you see others dropping the ball, because you never allow yourself to drop it.
- Finally, you stop asking for help because you forget that receiving support is even an option.
This is the high cost of this identity: You survive the storm, but you forget how to live in the sun.
Strength is a Tool, Not a Lifestyle
Here is the reframe that will change your year:
Your strength is a fire extinguisher. It is designed for emergencies.
If a fire starts, you grab it. You use it. You handle business. But you do not walk around your house holding a heavy fire extinguisher while you cook dinner, watch TV, and play with your kids. That would exhaust you. It would look absurd.
Yet, that represents exactly how many of us are living. We carry emergency-level armour into our daily lives. We use “survival energy” to answer emails or go to the grocery store.
You do not need to be “The Rock” 24/7 to succeed. In fact, if you are hard 24/7, you are not living; you are just enduring. The cost of being strong all the time is your actual life.
The Solution: Building Safety, Not Stamina
The solution to this exhaustion isn’t to “get more rest” (although sleep helps). The solution is to cultivate Safety.
We stay armoured up because we don’t feel safe enough to be soft. We hold up the roof because we don’t trust the walls to stand on their own.
So, how do we fix this?
- Retire the Identity: Start small. Let a small ball drop. Leave a text message unread for 24 hours. Prove to your nervous system that the world will not end if you are not holding it together.
- Audit Your Circle: You cannot put down the weight if you have nowhere to set it. We often stay hyper-independent because we surround ourselves with people who need us, rather than people who feed us. It is time to find rooms where you are the “weakest” one, where others can carry you.
- Respect Your “No”: Every time you say “yes” when you are already at capacity, you borrow energy from your future self at a very high interest rate.
You Have Done Enough
As we close out the first month of the year, I want to offer you a different kind of compliment.
I won’t tell you how strong you are. I know you are strong; that is not in question.
Instead, I want to tell you that you are allowed to be tired. You are allowed to be unsure. You are allowed to put the fire extinguisher down.
Your path forward isn’t about building more muscle. It is about finding a place where you feel safe enough to take the armour off.
