If you’re the strong one… read this.

By Lisa R. Conner

A friend texted me a meaningful message this morning. It’s not mine to share.

But it sparked.
It cracked something open.

Later in the day, she sent me a video.
She knows me well. She knows my medicine.

The message was basically this:
You built muscles for survival, and now they’re carrying pain you were never meant to keep.

Holy Batman and Robin.

Because there’s not one word or thought in that message I haven’t written in Casa Renae (my book about outgrowing your story and coming home to yourself).

It got me thinking about unrequited love, not only in romance, but in the quieter way it shows up when love becomes work. When reliability becomes reflex, not choice. When you’re so good at being steady that you stop noticing what it costs you.

Over-giving was part of the wiring.

It started with a story I didn’t write, but I learned to live:

If I give enough, I’ll be safe.
If I keep it together, I’ll be loved.
If I don’t need much, I won’t lose anyone.

So, I gave.
I anticipated.
I accommodated.
I over-delivered.
I became dependable, on autopilot.

It’s what I knew. It’s all I knew.

And for a while, it worked.
Until it didn’t.

Because there’s a difference between being loving… and vanishing inside love.
There’s a difference between being strong… and being the only one holding the weight.

Don’t we all need a spotter?

Strength can be a lonely place.
I’m not gonna lie.

Because when you’re the one who can handle anything, people stop checking.
And eventually, you stop checking, too.

Carl Jung called patterns like this a complex, something that forms to protect you, then starts driving the car. Then your life goes on autopilot.

Just because you can handle absolutely anything doesn’t mean you should.

And here’s the shift:

I’m not living that way anymore.

Casa Renae is where I saw the pattern clearly.
Love Reimagined (my current writing) is where I practice living differently.

Not jaded.
Not hardened.
Just done paying for love with my nervous system.

I can be the gloves.
I can be the flowers.
Even the warrior needs a spotter.

Living in curiosity,

Lisa

Lisa R. Conner is a writer, coach, REALTOR®, and entrepreneur based in Alaska. She is the author of Casa Renae: Outgrowing Your Story & Coming Home to Yourself, and writes Fireweed & Flannel as a place for honest reflections on reinvention, courage, resilience, grief, real estate, and the wild beauty of becoming.

You can schedule a Discovery Call with Lisa here:  https://lisaconner.com/book-a-session/