You know her. Maybe you are her.
The strong one.
The one everybody calls.
The rock.
The counselor.
The “you got this” cheerleader—even when she doesn’t got this.
Let me say it loud and clear for all the strong ones out there:
Being strong all the time has a cost.
And if you’re not paying attention, that cost will be your peace, your softness, your health, and your self-worth.
The Mask of Strength
We live in a world that rewards strength—but often in the form of emotional suppression, over-responsibility, and over-functioning.
You’re praised for being unshakable. For holding it all together. For never needing help.
But here’s the thing:
If your strength is a mask that hides your needs, your truth, or your vulnerability—it’s not strength. It’s survival.
And surviving is not the same as living.
I used to think being the strong one made me powerful.
Now I know that power without softness is a cage.
You can’t feel your feelings behind that mask.
You can’t receive love if you’re too busy performing strength.
The Scarcity Lie
At the root of this is scarcity.
The fear that if you stop being strong, everything will fall apart.
That people will leave you, or judge you, or not know what to do with your messiness.
So you stay strong. You keep showing up. You swallow your tears and keep moving.
But I need you to hear this:
True strength is not what you hold in. It’s what you’re willing to feel.
And there’s no abundance in a life where you’re constantly self-abandoning just to be everything for everyone else.
YDBG taught me that.
I started making deposits into myself—into my self-worth, my body, my balance.
And slowly, I started to trust that I didn’t have to be the savior. I just had to be me.
Let Yourself Be Held
One of the hardest things I’ve learned—and I’m still learning—is how to let people show up for me.
To say, “I’m not okay right now,”
and not follow it with,
“…but I’ll be fine.”
To trust that I can fall apart and still be worthy of love.
To let myself be held, without apology or guilt.
Because the truth is, we teach people how to love us.
And when you always play the strong one, you train the people around you to overlook your pain.
Not because they’re cruel—but because you’ve made it invisible.
Strong Enough to Be Soft
At YDBG, we talk a lot about True Independence.
That’s not a soft, fluffy idea.
It’s a choice.
True Independence means I choose to love myself so fiercely that I stop abandoning myself to feel safe.
It means I stop chasing validation, stop swallowing my voice, and start living by principle—even when it’s hard.
Being soft is not weakness.
Being honest is not dangerous.
Letting someone in is not a threat.
It’s actually the strongest thing you can do.
A New Model of Strength
I’m not interested in being the strong one anymore.
I’m interested in being the real one.
The loving one.
The trustworthy one.
The one who cries and laughs and sets boundaries and owns her stuff.
That’s the kind of strength I want to model.
So if you’re reading this and you’ve been carrying the world on your back—I see you.
And I’m inviting you to set it down.
To come home to your own heart.
To stop performing and start feeling.
You are not alone.
And you don’t have to prove anything to be loved.
Ready to trade in the performance of strength for the peace of presence?
Start with a single deposit into yourself today.
One deep breath. One journal entry. One yes to softness.You don’t have to hold it all anymore.
You just have to hold yourself.
