Dear Queenie,
I have become everyone's emotional support person. When someone has a bad day, they call me. Relationship problems? They call me. Problems with the children? They call me. Work drama? They call me. Family arguments? They call me. I genuinely don't mind being there for the people I love. In fact, I feel honoured that they trust me. But lately I've noticed something. Nobody ever asks how I am. The conversation is almost always about them. On the rare occasion someone does ask, before I can answer they have already launched into their latest crisis. Sometimes I think people assume I have everything together because I am calm and a good listener. The truth is, I have struggles too. I get overwhelmed. I cry. I worry. I just don't broadcast it. Recently, after spending nearly two hours talking a friend through a difficult situation, we hung up and I realized she never once asked how I was doing. I sat there feeling strangely... invisible. Queenie, have I trained people to see me as the helper instead of a person who sometimes needs help too? —The Strong Friend
Dear The Strong Friend,
There is a peculiar burden that comes with being "the strong one." People stop seeing your strength as something you offer. They begin treating it as something you possess in unlimited supply. It happens gradually. Because you listen without interrupting. You remember birthdays. You give thoughtful advice. You stay calm during other people's storms. Over time, everyone begins assuming that you don't have storms of your own. That assumption is unfair. Strong people still get tired. Compassionate people still need comfort. Good listeners still need someone to listen back. What often happens is that the role becomes so established that your friends unconsciously forget to ask the most basic question: "And how are you?" Not because they don't care. But because they have become accustomed to receiving from you. The difficult part is this: You may have unintentionally helped create the pattern. Not by being kind. But by always making room for everyone else while rarely asking anyone to make room for you. Relationships are like gardens. If one person is always watering and nobody notices when their own soil is dry, eventually even the healthiest plant begins to wilt. This is not a sign to stop being generous. It is a reminder to become visible. The next time someone asks for support, it is perfectly acceptable to say: “I'd love to listen, but I'm having a difficult week myself.” Or after you've listened, add: “Can I tell you what's been on my mind lately?” Healthy friendships make space for both people. And if someone consistently has no interest in your inner world, ask yourself a difficult question: Are they your friend... Or are you simply their favourite therapist? Because there is a difference. And the strongest people deserve someone who notices when they need carrying too. —Queenie
