Handle with care. I too am capable of being fragile.
“When a strong woman finally gives up, it’s not because she’s weak or because she no longer loves her man. To put it in the simplest terms… she’s just tired. She’s tired of the games…she’s tired of the sleepless nights… she’s tired of feeling like she’s all alone and the only one trying…she’s tired.” Mr. Amari Soul from Reflections of a Man
If I had a penny for every time I heard the words “you’re one of the strongest women I know” I’d not only be strong, I’d also be rich, very rich. And who can blame them? They’re not wrong, I am one of the strongest women they know. Not because I chose to be, but because I had to be. My whole life I’ve been the ‘older sister’ ‘the eldest child’ ‘the planner’ & ‘the one that will sort it out’. Did I ask for any of this? No, but is it who I am? Yes. Please don’t misunderstand me, would I want to be weak? No, I wouldn’t. But what I once wore as a badge as honour at times feels like a noose round my neck, tightening until sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe.
For as long as I can remember, women have been told to be strong, to stand tall, and to never let anyone see them cry. We’ve been told to be warriors in the boardroom, vixens in the bedroom, goddesses in the kitchen and queens of our own little kingdoms. And while there is an undeniable beauty in strength, there is also a quiet, delicate side to every woman that often goes unnoticed. We often mistake strength as invulnerability. Just because a woman can hold her own doesn’t mean she should have to, all the time. The truth is strong women are strong because they have learned how to protect themselves. They’ve built walls, forged armour, and sharpened their wit as weapons to fend off unkindness. But beneath that carefully constructed facade lies a heart that still yearns for tenderness, compassion, and dare I say it, a little care.
THE MYTH OF INVULNERABILITY
The problem with myths is they create unrealistic expectations. We start to believe that if we show any sign of weakness, we’re failing. If we ask for help, we’re not as strong as people think we are. So, we push ourselves to the limit, often to the detriment of our own well-being. And here’s the thing, if you are a ’strong woman’ everyone assumes you’re invincible. You become the go-to for advice, the shoulder to cry on, the one who always seems to have it together. But what happens when the strong woman needs a shoulder? What happens when she needs to fall apart, even just a little? Does anyone ever think to ask how she’s really doing? Or are we all too busy being impressed by her ability to juggle it all to notice that the balls are starting to slip through her fingers?
THE BURDEN OF STRENGTH
Strong women carry a unique burden. They are often the ones who are expected to be the rocks in their relationships, the ones who are always there to support others, even when they themselves are struggling. This expectation can at times be empowering, but ultimately, it’s exhausting. Let’s imagine for one second, I’m the strong, independent type that you see in the movies, that can navigate a boardroom, jet wash her own driveway, put up that shelf, do all those ‘blue jobs’ that you usually have a man around to do and on top of that navigate the complexities of life with grace and grit. What happens if, just for a moment, I don’t want to be strong? What if I want to be vulnerable, to let someone else take the reins, to be taken care of? Does that mean I’m not as strong for wanting that? Because me, personally, I’m tired of being the strong one all the time. Sometimes I just want to be taken care of.
THE LONELINESS OF STRENGTH
There’s a certain kind of loneliness that comes with being strong. It’s the loneliness of being the one who always has to be okay, even when you’re not. It’s the loneliness of feeling like you can’t show weakness because you’re afraid of letting people down. It’s the loneliness of knowing that people depend on you, but they rarely stop to think about who you can depend on. There have been times when I’ve been surrounded by people yet felt completely alone. I’ve been the one to give advice, to offer support, to be there for my friends, but when it came to my own needs I never asked. I’ve always been praised for my independence, my resilience, my ability to pick myself up after every heartbreak, every disappointment. But there have been nights, quiet, lonely nights, when I wished someone would just hold me, tell me it’s okay to fall apart, and let me be vulnerable without judgement.
THE BEAUTY OF VULNERABILITY
For strong women, vulnerability can be particularly difficult. We’ve been conditioned to believe that showing vulnerability is a sign of weakness, that it somehow diminishes our strength. It’s taken me a long time to realise that it’s our vulnerability that connects us with others, where we open ourselves up to love, to care, to admit that you’re not okay, to let others in and to the possibility of being truly seen. But society has conditioned us to expect strong women to always be strong. We don’t allow them the same care, attention, and nurturing that we would offer to someone who is more openly vulnerable. Strength doesn’t negate the need for care. In fact, strong women need care more than anyone else because they are so used to not asking for it. They are the ones who carry the weight of the world on their shoulders, often without complaint. But just because they can carry the weight doesn’t mean it isn’t doesn’t get heavy.
A NEW DEFINITION OF STRENGTH
Society has romanticised the idea of the strong woman to the point where it’s almost a burden. We expect her to be everything to everyone and still have time to take care of herself. But the truth is, even the strongest women have breaking points. And when they reach them, they deserve to be met with the same care and compassion they give to others. We need to rewrite the narrative. Strength is not a one-size-fits-all concept. It comes in many forms, and it looks different for every woman. Some women are strong in their careers, others in their relationships, and others in their ability to navigate the challenges of life with resilience. But no matter what form it takes, true strength is about balance. It’s about knowing when to be strong and when to be vulnerable, when to take care of others and when to take care of yourself. True strength is not about never falling down; it’s about getting back up. It’s about facing life’s challenges head-on, but also knowing when to ask for help. It’s about being independent, but also recognising the value of connection. And most importantly, it’s about embracing the full spectrum of who you are, strengths, weaknesses, and everything in between.
So, here’s to the strong women, the ones who lead, who inspire, who keep going even when the going gets tough. May we always remember that strength is not the absence of vulnerability, but the courage to embrace it. And may we never forget to handle each other, and ourselves, with the care we all deserve, check in on each other and listen when she tells you she’s not ok.
To anyone who has a strong woman in their life remember, in a world that demands so much from strong women, a little kindness can go a long way. Whether it’s a thoughtful gesture, a kind word, or a simple act of love, let her know that she’s appreciated not just for her strength, but for who she is as a person. Remind her that she is more than the sum of her accomplishments, that she is worthy of care and compassion, simply because she exists. We are strong, yes, but we are also human. And as humans, we need care, love, and tenderness, just like everyone else. So next time you think ‘I’m with a strong woman’ treat her like she’s fragile and just because she doesn’t show it, doesn’t mean she can’t break at any time.
