the hidden cost of being the strong one

There was a lighthouse known for something unusual.
It watched the ships.
And when storms came, it would leave its post..
running down the rocks
wading into the water
trying to guide each one safely to shore.

At first, it was admired..
So caring.
So devoted.
Always there when needed.

But over time, something began to happen.
The light started to flicker.
Some nights it didn’t shine as far.
Some nights.. not at all.
Because it was tired.
Of course it was.

Because it had spent so much time
trying to reach every ship
that it had slowly stopped doing
what it was built for.

And out at sea, the ships became more lost..
not less.
Because the steady light they relied on
was no longer steady.

I think many of us learned to live like that lighthouse.
To anticipate.
To fix.
To hold everything together.
To go out into the storm again and again
until there’s almost nothing left.

It can look like care.
It can feel like responsibility.

And sometimes there are real responsibilities being carried.
Things that genuinely matter.
People who need support.

But even then..
no one can hold everything alone.

But sometimes..
it quietly becomes the very thing that exhausts us
and keeps others from finding their own way.

A lighthouse doesn’t chase ships.
It stands.
It tends to its own light.
It shines.
Even in the storm.
And because of that,
others can orient themselves.

There’s a kind of goodness
in being reliable, supportive, there for others.

And there’s also a quieter kind of wisdom
in not abandoning yourself to do it.

In letting your light be enough.
In not trying to be everywhere at once.

Some seasons aren’t asking you to do more.
They’re asking you to stop gripping so tightly.
To let things be a little more.. imperfect.
A little more human.

Maybe you don’t need to run into the water this time.
It might be enough
to stay where you are
and keep the light on.

You may have been carrying more than was ever yours to carry.
Your nervous system might be tired of holding everything together.

Maybe you’ve been the strong one for a long time.

And something in you might already know
what it feels like
to soften, even just a little.