Who Carries the Strong One?

Why have we designed relationships around one person carrying the weight instead of two capable people carrying life together?

I’ve been thinking about this lately about shared responsibility in relationships. We talk a lot about women wanting strong men. A man who can lead. A man who can provide. A man who can protect. A man who can make decisions and make us feel safe.

What a weight that is…

Is it tradition? Religion? Societal expectations? Is it something we’ve watched generation after generation and simply accepted as the way relationships are supposed to work?

And what does “lead” even mean?

Does it mean making the decisions? Managing the finances? Protecting the family? Being responsible for where the relationship is going? Fixing things when they fall apart?

Do you wonder why he is quiet sometimes or gets angry sometimes or checks out?

Doesn’t he get tired too?

If he’s carrying the stresses of his own life, his career, his relationship, his children, finances, aging parents, extended family and whatever else life throws at him, when does he get to put all of that down?

Who is taking care of the person everyone expects to take care of everybody else?

And women know this burden too.

How many women are managing careers while also managing the household, the children, appointments, groceries, meals, birthdays, school activities, aging parents, family relationships and everyone else’s emotional needs?

We call her strong.

We tell her, “I don’t know how you do it.”

Meanwhile, she may be exhausted.

So maybe this isn’t really a conversation about whether men or women should lead.

Maybe we’ve been asking the wrong question.

What Does Shared Responsibility in Relationships Look Like?

What would happen if we stopped assigning responsibilities based on who is supposed to be the strong one and started paying attention to the strengths of the two people actually in the relationship?

Maybe you’re great with money and I’m better at planning.

Maybe I’m better in a crisis while you’re better at slowing us down before we make a decision.

Maybe you cook and I clean.

Maybe I earn more money during one season of our relationship and you earn more during another.

Maybe you’re emotionally stronger when I’m falling apart, and six months from now, you’re the one who needs me to hold things together.

Why can’t we simply lean into each other’s strengths and balance out the rest?

That’s what partnership looks like to me.

Not you carry me.

Not I carry you.

We carry life together.

And that doesn’t necessarily mean everything is 50/50.

Life doesn’t work that neatly.

Sometimes I’m going to have 20% to give and you’re going to have to bring the other 80%. Sometimes you’re going to be exhausted, grieving, sick, overwhelmed or simply tired of being strong, and I’ll need to carry more.

Do We Really Want a Partner or Someone to Manage Our Lives?

This is where I had to ask myself a harder question.

Are there times when we confuse being loved with being taken care of?

There is nothing wrong with wanting to feel safe with your partner. There is nothing wrong with wanting someone you can depend on. That’s part of intimacy.

But depending on someone isn’t the same as making them responsible for your life.

If I’m a capable adult, why would I want another adult to carry the responsibility of managing me?

Maybe sometimes we’re tired. We’re already burned out from work, family obligations and all the expectations we’ve placed on ourselves. The thought of having someone else come in and figure everything out sounds good.

“You handle it.”

“You decide.”

“You lead.”

But what does that eventually cost the person doing all the handling, deciding and leading?

And what does it cost the person who slowly stops exercising their own ability to navigate life?

I know what it feels like to be the strong one.

I was in a relationship that I eventually had to end because I was simply exhausted from being the person expected to handle everything.

It felt like they were carrying their job while I was carrying the rest of their life, our relationship, my job and my life.

Somewhere along the way, I became the project manager, assistant, personal coach, therapist, financial advisor, friend, lover, maid, nurse and chef.

The relationship felt like a second job.

And I was tired.

It wasn’t that I didn’t love this person. I did. That’s what made the decision so difficult. But love doesn’t magically replenish you when you’re constantly being depleted.

I complained. I explained what I needed. I said I was overwhelmed. I asked for things to change.

For months, my words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Eventually, I reached a point where enough really was enough.

One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to accept was that I could love someone and still need to leave them because I was exhausted by the relationship.

What a waste.

But here’s the part that surprised me.

When it ended, I felt peace.

I started to feel alive again. My creativity came back. My worried mind began to quiet. I wasn’t constantly thinking about what needed to be handled next or what would fall apart if I didn’t take care of it.

I could finally rest.

And that experience taught me something I don’t think we talk about enough:

You can love someone and still burn them out.

You can be so focused on your own needs that you don’t recognize how much of your life another person is carrying. You can become so accustomed to someone handling everything that you stop noticing the weight you’ve placed on them.

And just because everything looks managed doesn’t mean the person managing it is okay.

The bills may be paid.

The house may be running.

Dinner may be made.

Appointments may be scheduled.

Problems may be solved.

Life may appear to be moving along just fine.

But have you stopped to ask the person keeping everything moving:

Are you tired? Do you feel overwhelmed? What can I take off your plate?

Or better yet, let me handle that.

Because competence is not consent to carry everything.

Sometimes that’s the curse of being capable. Once people see that you can handle a lot, they give you more to handle.

Being capable doesn’t mean I want to be responsible for everything.

Being strong doesn’t mean I don’t need someone to be strong for me sometimes.

And love shouldn’t mean watching your partner drown simply because they’ve always figured out how to swim.

The mental and physical strain of carrying that much for too long takes a toll.

So if you’re reading this and you’re fortunate enough to have someone who has been carrying your weight along with their own, pay attention.

Don’t wait until they’re completely depleted.

Don’t wait until they’ve stopped complaining.

Because sometimes when the complaining stops, it isn’t because things got better.

It’s because they’ve decided they’re done.

So yes, get your head out of your ass before you burn out the person you claim to love.

Maybe Partnership Doesn’t Need One Leader

We’re both responsible for the lives we bring into this relationship, and we’re going to help each other carry what we build together.

Sometimes you’ll lead.

Sometimes I will.

Sometimes we’ll stand side by side and figure it out together.

And sometimes one of us will simply say, “I can’t carry much today,” and trust that the other person will pick up a little more of the weight.

Maybe that’s the kind of strength we don’t talk about enough.

Not the strength to carry everyone.

Maybe it’s about finding someone you can carry life with.

Own Your Peace