Have you ever felt like you’ve been carrying too much for too long? Let’s pick up where we left off last week on this exploration of endurance vs. resilience.

Endurance says, I can push through this.

Resilience asks, What do I need to move through this in a healthy way?

One way to think about it is this, imagine you were carrying a heavy backpack on a long hike, you might be perfectly capable of continuing for miles. You could tighten the straps, adjust the weight, and convince yourself that you’re fine.

But eventually, your shoulders would ache. Your back might begin to hurt. Your pace would slow. The fact that you could continue carrying the backpack wouldn’t mean the weight wasn’t taking a toll on your body. And if someone offered to help carry part of the load, would accepting that help somehow make you less capable?

Of course not.

Yet emotionally, that’s exactly how many of us operate.

We assume that because we’ve always managed to handle things, we should continue handling them. We convince ourselves that asking for help is weakness, resting is laziness, or setting boundaries means we’re letting someone down.

Our identity can become so intertwined with being the strong one that we don’t know who we are when we need support.

And I wonder how many of us have learned to measure our worth by how much we can carry?

The truth is, our nervous systems were never designed to remain in a constant state of high alert. We are built to respond to stress, but we also need opportunities for recovery, connection, and restoration. This is one of the reasons I love exploring emotional health through the lens of Polyvagal Theory. It offers a framework for noticing how our bodies respond to perceived safety and threat, and how those responses can influence our emotions, relationships, and ability to engage with the world.

When we’re experiencing ongoing stress, we might notice ourselves becoming increasingly anxious, restless, or reactive. At other times, we may feel depleted, disconnected, or emotionally shut down.

And here’s something important: these responses aren’t necessarily signs that we’re failing to cope. They may be signs that our systems are working hard to manage the demands being placed upon them.

The goal isn’t to become so emotionally regulated that nothing ever bothers us. Nor is it to eliminate every stressful situation from our lives. Neither is realistic nor possible.

Instead, we can begin by developing curiosity about what we’re experiencing.

What am I noticing in my body lately?

Am I genuinely doing well, or have I just become really good at pushing through?

What responsibilities am I carrying because they truly belong to me, and which ones have I picked up because I feel obligated?

Where might I need support, rest, or a boundary?

What would it look like to care for myself with the same compassion I extend to others?

These questions aren’t always comfortable. Sometimes they require us to acknowledge that the life we’ve carefully constructed is asking more of us than we can sustainably give.

And sometimes they require us to disappoint someone.

That’s a difficult reality for those of us who find purpose in being helpful, responsible, and dependable. But here’s what I want you to consider: You can be a strong, capable, resilient person and still need to put something down.

You don’t have to wait until you’re completely depleted to give yourself permission to rest.

If you’re someone who approaches life through faith, I think there’s something especially meaningful about remembering that even Jesus stepped away from the crowds to rest and pray. He didn’t respond to every demand placed upon Him. He withdrew, connected with the Father, and modeled a rhythm that included both engagement and solitude.

Somewhere along the way, we’ve developed the idea that faithfulness means being endlessly available, endlessly productive, and endlessly willing to give more of ourselves.

Let me suggest this: faithfulness also includes recognizing that we are human beings with limitations.

We were never meant to carry everything.

So maybe the question isn’t whether you’re strong enough to keep going. Maybe the better question is whether the way you’re going is sustainable.

Because resilience isn’t about proving how much weight you can carry before you collapse. It’s about learning to recognize when the load is too heavy, finding ways to recover, and allowing yourself to receive support along the way.

And sometimes the strongest thing you can do is loosen your grip, set something down, and remember that your worth was never determined by how much you could hold together.

Just because you can carry it doesn’t mean you should.

And just because you’ve always carried it doesn’t mean you have to keep carrying it alone.

💜