For years, I thought being strong meant getting my head down and dealing with it. And to be fair, life gave me plenty of opportunities to practise.

Twenty-two years ago, my son Zac was born four weeks early. Within hours of his birth, we were told that he had Down syndrome.

Life changed overnight. I became a carer, advocate, organiser and protector. And I did it willingly because I loved my family fiercely.

The Hidden Exhaustion of Being the Strong One Starts Quietly

But life didn’t stop there.

Life carried on unfolding in ways I could never have predicted. Over the years I became the person people leaned on. The organiser. The advocate. The steady one. The person who could usually be relied upon when life became messy or difficult.

Years later, discovering that my husband and both of my children were on the autistic spectrum answered a lot of questions. And to be fair, there’s always silver lining to a diagnosis, however shocking it is at the time.

By then, stepping up and carrying on had become second nature to me. I’d helped build two charities and had stepped into the role of CEO, even though, inside, I felt like the least qualified person in the world to do it. I carried responsibility for staff, strategy, decisions, and people.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, my wonderful dad died.

I was heartbroken. But even then, I slipped naturally into the role I’d become so used to. Remaining strong for my mum. Supporting my family. Holding everyone else up. Not because I was anything special, but because I didn’t know what else to do.

When Being the Strong One Becomes Who You Are

Looking back now, I can see that strength slowly stopped being a response to difficult circumstances and became my identity. I became capable, responsible, reliable – the one who could cope. But the problem is that when you become ‘the strong one’, people can start assuming that you don’t need support too.

The Moment I Couldn’t Carry Any More

For me, the turning point came during a meeting. I found myself challenged in a way that I hadn’t expected, and it really knocked me. Nothing dramatic happened, but afterwards I remember feeling shaken.

Looking back now, I don’t think it was really about the meeting. I think it touched something much deeper. I had spent so many years being the one who stayed steady, carried responsibility and absorbed pressure. I had become so used to supporting everyone else that I had stopped noticing the toll it was taking on me.

Over the following weeks, I found myself in a bit of a state. I was breathing shallowly, my heart was beating furiously even when I was resting, and I was struggling to concentrate. Even the tiniest things suddenly felt overwhelming. My body was saying what my mind hadn’t yet caught up with:

I can’t carry any more.

Eventually I had to take some time off work. To their credit, my board were wonderful and agreed I could take a sabbatical. But as that time off drew to an end I realised something difficult:

I couldn’t go back.

So I resigned.

Finding My Way Back to Myself

But here’s the interesting thing. I had actually trained as a life coach during Covid. I’d thought of it as another string to my bow and a useful way to support my team. But after leaving my CEO role, I decided to give it a go. And somewhere along the lien, something unexpected happened. Through helping other people reconnect with myself, I slowly found my own heartbeat again.

Doing the work became the best investment I ever made. Not because it made life perfect. But because it helped me remember who I was underneath all the roles, responsibilities, and pretending I had it all together.

Ironically, Valerie means ‘strong’. Perhaps I was always destined to wear that badge. The difference is that I’ve now learned that strength doesn’t have to mean carrying everything alone.

So if you’re the strong one, I want you to know this:

You do not have to wait until your body waves a little white flag. You do not need to carry everything alone. And no matter how long you’ve spent becoming who you needed to be in order to survive, there is a way back to yourself.

Sometimes it starts with letting someone help carry things for a while.

If you think I might be that person for you, why not get in touch and we’ll set up a free 30 minute call so we can get to know each other a little better. Click the link below and let’s take it from there.

If you’re not already following me on social media, I’d love you to join me on LinkedIn, Facebook or Instagram. See you there!