Being Capable Doesn't Mean Carrying It Alone

I realized something this weekend.

I am really good at getting sh*t done.

Honestly, that's rarely the problem.

Give me a project, a deadline, something that needs to happen, and I can usually figure out a way to make it happen.

For a long time, I think I've even worn that as a badge of honor.

I'll figure it out.

I'll make it happen.

I've got it.

But this weekend, something I've wanted to move forward for almost a year finally started happening.

And as I stood there looking at the progress, I realized that what felt so good wasn't actually the accomplishment.

It was the support.

It was experiencing what it felt like to not be the only one creating the momentum.

And there is a huge difference between the two.

Just because I can doesn't mean I should have to

I think sometimes those of us who are capable become really good at carrying.

We notice what needs to happen.

We make the plan.

We remember the things.

We figure it out.

We keep everything moving.

And because we can, sometimes it becomes easy, for ourselves and for the people around us, to assume that we don't need support.

But I'm realizing:

Being capable doesn't mean I want to carry everything alone.

Sometimes I don't need someone to rescue me.

I don't need someone to take over.

I don't even necessarily need someone to tell me what to do.

I just don't want to be responsible for noticing, initiating, organizing, remembering, motivating and doing.

There's a difference between:

I can't do this.

and

I don't want to have to do this alone.

That distinction has been sitting with me.

What support actually feels like

I've spent a lot of my life being someone who can handle a lot.

At work.

At home.

In relationships.

In motherhood.

In the spaces I hold for others.

And I genuinely love parts of that about myself.

I love that I'm someone who can make things happen.

I love creating.

I love taking an idea and bringing it to life.

I don't want to become less capable.

But I am starting to question the idea that being capable means I should always be the one carrying the momentum.

Because something changes when I feel supported.

There is more room in me...

More room for patience.

More room for connection.

More room for joy.

More room to actually experience what is happening instead of constantly thinking about what needs to happen next.

And maybe that's what struck me most this weekend.

Things still got done.

There were still unfinished things.

Life was still life.

But I didn't feel like I was dragging everything behind me.

And my body knew the difference.

Maybe support isn't about capability at all

I wonder how many of us have unconsciously connected needing support with not being capable enough.

I should be able to handle this.

Other people manage this.

It's easier if I just do it myself.

I know how to do it.

Maybe all of those things are true.

And maybe we still deserve support.

We can be capable and need help.

We can be strong and want softness.

We can know what needs to happen and want someone beside us.

We can hold space for other people and need places where we don't have to hold everything ourselves.

I'm still learning this.

I'm still noticing where I automatically pick things up because I know I can.

I'm still learning what it looks like to ask for support, and what it feels like to actually receive it.

But this weekend gave me a glimpse of something I want more of.

Not a life where I never have responsibilities.

Not a life where someone else takes care of everything.

Not a life where I become less capable.

A life where capability and support get to exist together.

Maybe the question isn't:

Can I handle all of this?

I already know I can handle a lot.

Maybe the question I'm learning to ask is:

Do I have to hold all of it alone?

With love,

Jess