Try allowing yourself to say – «I’m a weak person.».
How did you feel?
Shame? Guilt? Fear? Or the desire to prove that it isn’t true?
Often, the word itself «weakness» causes almost physical discomfort.
We’re not just afraid of hearing it from others. We’re even afraid to think that way about ourselves.
But have we ever really stopped to think – what is weakness?
Over the decades, society has cultivated a very clear image of the «proper» person: someone who doesn’t cry, doesn’t complain and doesn’t ask for help. They endure. They work. They persevere.
We were taught to survive. We were taught to be strong, composed and accommodating towards others. But few people taught us to be aware of ourselves — our feelings, our boundaries, our tiredness and our needs.
Many people remember phrases that have almost become part of the culture: «Don’t whinge», «Don’t be a wimp», «You’re strong, aren’t you?», «You’ve got to put up with it», «You could make nails out of these people…»
We grew up believing that strength is the ability to put others before oneself. And we often saw this exemplified by those closest to us.
Gradually, the renunciation of one’s own needs began to be regarded as a virtue.
And looking after oneself is seen as a sign of selfishness or weakness.
This is how what is now often referred to as the ‘strong person syndrome’ gradually takes shape.
We know people whom those around them describe as strong. They work hard, look after others and manage to keep their composure even in the most difficult situations.
They are the first to come to the rescue.
And they almost never ask for it for themselves – but not because they don’t need support.
It’s a choice without a choice: I help everyone because I can’t do otherwise.
Perhaps you recognised yourself in this?
Over time, strength ceases to be merely a character trait. It becomes a role.
And one day, you no longer know who you are without that role.
We’ve learnt to cope, but have we learnt to live?
In fact, we have become true masters of endurance – ignoring our tiredness, carrying on working when we’ve almost no strength left, smiling when we’re hurting inside, saying «it’s nothing» when we’re scared, and not asking for help, even when it’s absolutely essential.
We have learnt to give.
We give our time, energy, attention, care and love. And gradually we may find ourselves at a point where we still have something left to give to others, but nothing left for ourselves.
There’s one thing you can’t keep doing forever – ignoring yourself.
Our needs do not simply disappear. Needs do not cease to exist just because we have stopped noticing them. Uncried tears and exhaustion do not simply vanish. Fear does not diminish just because we have learnt to hide it. Anger does not turn into love or acceptance simply because we want it to.
What we ignore for a long time deep down inside doesn’t just disappear. It simply looks for another way to make itself heard.
Because of emotional exhaustion.
Because of chronic stress.
Because of alarm.
Because of burnout.
Through the body.
Through feelings: «I can’t do this any more.»
And very often, it is precisely with these words that people first seek out a psychologist.
Not because they’ve become weak – but because they’ve been strong for too long.
The war has made «strength» almost a duty
Recent years have taught Ukrainians to live in a reality that is impossible to get used to.
Some people are woken by sirens and explosions. Some live far from home and miss their loved ones every day. Some are waiting for their loved ones to return from the front. Some are trying to build a new life in another country, not knowing when or where they will be able to return.
Uncertainty has become part of everyday life.
And in this reality, time and time again – after yet another round of shelling, after more devastating news – we tell ourselves: «We must stay strong.»
Yes.
It really is necessary.
But if a person lives solely by this «must», they gradually lose touch with themselves, with their own «I can», and with «I want» as well.
It is precisely through this connection that the sense of life continues.
So what, then, is true strength?
For a very long time, we confused strength with the ability to endure anything.
But a person is not a machine. Nor are they a tree that is meant to withstand any storm.
The person is alive.
And everything that lives gets tired.
Needs rest, care and the company of another person.
True strength does not lie in never crying.
It’s not about trying to control everything.
And it’s not even about always managing on your own.
It begins the moment we stop being ashamed of our vulnerability.
When we allow ourselves to say:
«It’s a bit tough for me at the moment.»
«I can’t cope.»
«I need help.»
These words do not make us weak – they make us alive.
And perhaps this is precisely where humanity’s greatest strength lies.