I recently realized how difficult it is to be the strong one in relationships. The one people run and get so used to because they assume you carry things well that they forget you’re carrying anything at all.
They see the smiles, quick replies, and the moments where you still show up despite being exhausted, and take it as if your cup is always full. But, the truth is far from that. Sometimes you are running on fumes, just hanging by a thread, surviving quietly, pouring from a place that has already gone dry. And I think that’s where I currently am. My own cup is empty.
It was my birthday on the 25th but no one remembered because I didn’t make a post. I was fighting my demons alone but not one person I called a friend called to check in. It skipped their minds, they were occupied with work or are dealing with their own demons too, probably, but trust that no matter what, even if I had tears in my eyes on my friends birthdays, I would pick my phone up and wish them a happy birthday.
I have become more quiet than I used to be socially. I disappear sometimes and now replying to anyone feels like work. Even the smallest things suddenly feel heavy. It’s not hatred, I couldn’t hate my friends. Neither is it pride or lack of love. It’s simply me reflecting exhaustion in its rawest form.
I think many people underestimate how emotionally draining life can become when you are constantly expected to be available for others while silently battling your own storms but they’re never available for you.
Even the strongest soldiers need rest. Even the people who comfort everyone else sometimes need to be comforted too. The listeners need someone to listen to them. Strong friends need softness. Those cheerful ones sometimes cry in private. And the people always checking up on others also want to experience what it feels like to be checked on without asking first.
In all of this, strength is not the absence of vulnerability. In fact, real strength is being honest enough to admit when you are no longer okay. This phase feels so strange to me because I am used to being the giver, being dependable and used to pouring into others without hesitation. But now, for once, I just want to be held emotionally without feeling guilty for it.
I think a lot of us are secretly carrying this same feeling. Walking around tired, smiling through burnout, trying to function while emotionally running on empty and hoping someone notices the silence.
So if someone you love suddenly becomes distant, quieter, slower, or emotionally unavailable, maybe pause before taking it personally. Some people are not withdrawing because they stopped caring. We are simply trying to survive enough to feel like ourselves again.
