Strong Didn’t Mean She Wasn’t Struggling
She didn’t choose to be “the strong one.”
She became her before she ever knew she had another option.
Middle Child. Oldest daughter? High-functioning. Calm under pressure.
The one who always knew what to say… or who just knew when not to say anything at all.
She learned how to read the room.
How to soften her voice.
How to show up strong even when she was unraveling inside.
Not because she wanted to. But because she had to.
And after a while, strength became her survival language.
Not because it gave her peace…
But because it made everyone else feel safe.
What Nobody Sees
Here’s what culture doesn’t talk about:
Most high-capacity women aren’t thriving… they’re managing.
Managing everyone’s expectations.
Managing their tone so they don’t come across the wrong way.
Managing the room so nobody feels uncomfortable.
Managing the mental tabs no one else even knows exist.
From the outside? She looks composed.
But underneath? She’s exhausted.
Not from weakness… but from chronic strength.
And the scariest part?
No one notices.
Because she’s trained them not to.
The Lie That Keeps Her Silent
Culture hands her praise while quietly reinforcing the pressure.
“You’re so strong.”
“I don’t know how you do it.”
“You always show up.”
They mean it as a compliment.
But here’s what she hears:
“Don’t stop.”
“Don’t crumble.”
“Don’t need too much.”
And eventually? She believes it.
Not out of pride… but out of fear.
Because underneath all that strength… she’s terrified that if she stops performing, she’ll lose her place.
The Trade She Didn’t Know She Was Making
Here’s the subtle cost of being “the strong one”:
She gets reliability in exchange for relational safety.
She gets respect in exchange for rest.
She gets applause… but loses the ability to ask for help.
And slowly, she internalizes a rule she never agreed to:
You are only valuable if you’re useful.
But Here’s the Truth:
You were never created to be everyone else’s anchor.
God didn’t ask you to carry what only He can hold.
He didn’t praise your performance.
He didn’t overlook your exhaustion.
He sees you—not just the version of you that keeps it together.
The truth is…
💡 There’s a difference between being anchored and being the anchor.
One keeps you grounded in truth.
The other drowns you in pressure.
Rest Wasn’t Meant to Be Earned
God never designed rest to be a reward for burnout.
It was always meant to be your rhythm.
Not when you’re done doing for others.
But because He already did it for you.
Jesus didn’t say, “Come to Me after you get it all done.”
He said, “Come to Me, all who are weary, and I will give you rest.”
(Matthew 11:28)
That includes you.
The high-capacity, peacekeeping, always-there-for-everyone-else version of you.
Why You’ve Been Stuck in the Strong Role
Let’s talk psychology for a second.
👉 Over-functioning is usually learned in childhood as a protective strategy.
It keeps you valuable. Safe. Praise-worthy.
But over time, it wires your nervous system to equate love with performance.
That’s not faith.
That’s trauma survival.
If no one’s ever told you this:
It’s safe to stop.
You don’t need to be needed to be loved.
What It Looks Like to Come Back to Center
Coming back to center doesn’t mean giving up.
It means letting go… on purpose.
It sounds like:
“I’m not fine today.”
“I actually can’t carry that right now.”
“I need help… and that doesn’t make me weak.”
It looks like:
Taking a deep breath instead of another task.
Sitting down instead of showing up out of guilt.
Saying no without a 10-minute explanation.
You don’t need a breakdown.
You need a safe place to stop pretending you’re not breaking.
If This Hit Something in You, You’re Not Alone
You’ve been doing the best you can with what you were taught.
But it’s OK to choose different now.
You can return to your center.
Not the version of you that performs peace for everyone else…
but the one who actually gets to live it.
Start Here
You don’t need to be fixed. You just need to be seen.
That’s what this space is for.
[Meet Me in the Middle →]
A guided micro-devotional for when you’re tired of pretending you’re fine.
[Return to Center Toolkit →]
A 7-part reset to help you drop the weight and root back in truth.
You don’t have to earn rest.
You just have to receive it.
And if no one’s said it lately:
You’re allowed to stop being the strong one.
You Can,
Deanna