Ever felt like you are the one everyone calls when they need help? The one who can be relied on to show up – but the same people never show up when you call. 

The strong one who carries everyone silently –  the one who is fatigued and carries a sense of sadness no words can touch. Because even if you had the words, there is no one to hold you together when the weight of these words unravel you.

That’s the painful reality I had to come face to face with recently and it all started with a dream.

Dreams have a way of bringing things to your attention when you least expect it. I recently had one of such dreams – those dreams full of symbolism and so emotionally rich that couldn’t just be ignored. 

I had one of those.

The symbolic references of carrying luggages by myself up a steep hill while surrounded by two capable adults I was caring for while following a life companion who didn’t turn around even when I asked for help – such was the rich symbolism of this dream.

That Wednesday morning, as I lingered in bed longer than I usually would, I could not ignore the dream. There was something about it that touched a part of me that felt too painful to acknowledge. But this particular morning, I simply couldn’t ignore it as I always had.

So, instead of reaching for my phone to distract myself, I got out of bed and grabbed a notebook, a pen and sat down to write the dream. As I wrote, I knew exactly what needed my attention that morning.

Each symbol and person in the dream was a part of my waking life as well as patterns I had normalised. With every scene I wrote down came the rush of memories I had tucked away because they were too painful to recall. However, on this morning, my memories needed attention and I was not allowed to look away. I had questions to answer;

When had I taken on the responsibility of being the one to pick up the pieces for an adult who had shown time and time again that they had no problem taking but never returning the favour? 

When did love for family turn into panic attacks for young adults whose lives weren’t mine to coordinate – why did I feel I needed to carry that?

Who taught me that being supportive meant carrying it all alone and dragging everyone’s choices or lack of with me?

When did being abandoned in what was meant to be a partnership translate to carrying all the emotional burden on a difficult journey I didn’t choose?

When did I become everything to everyone and nothing to myself?

When I honestly answered these questions – I could no longer ignore the cost of the patterns I was recognising in my life. Because the thing with being everything to everyone is that you are never truly present to live your own life fully.

Because the thing with being everything to everyone is that you are never truly present to live your own life fully.

The hurt of hoping that the support you give would eventually be returned  – only to later realise that they always ask because they recognise the self abandonment in you.

The cost of peace because you feel responsible for young people you have watched grow – coupled with the gripping worry about whether their life would turn out ok. 

The heartbreak of finally accepting that worrying doesn’t give any control over the outcome of their lives. 

The realisation that without the worry, you feel quite useless – because seeing them step into their independence means they need you less and less.

And that your young adults have the right to make their own path and the humility to accept this.

Then there was the regret of being everything but one’s self – because for years, the belief and conditioning had been that to be loved is to be useful.

I couldn’t tell you when these patterns appeared – because they are all I had known, and I am sure that may be the case for many.

I could not stop the rush of memories – some I was ashamed of, others brought anger and some just seemed ridiculous – while I was sat at the table that Wednesday morning. 

I felt ashamed because of the loneliness I could not say out loud – I had chosen people who would not choose me back, because they were family.

Then anger for the relationships and friendships I did not allow myself to enter fully – because I was spread thin for everyone else and I did not think that I had much to give. I never felt enough to show up as me without giving.

And the deep encompassing sadness of being the one never supported and yet expected to support everyone.

These realisations almost swallowed me whole with shame and regret – I almost believed that what I had lost to these patterns outweighed the life in front of me.

However, I am learning that I am allowed to grieve who I had to become – because at the core of each of these patterns was survival. The girl who learned to survive led me to the woman at the table that morning. 

It was time to name the behaviours for what they truly were.

The generosity – was the need to be seen as good in the life of people who wouldn’t otherwise choose me.

The strength was because there was no place for me to be broken with care and support.

The care was the need to control the outcome – constantly.

And what looked like love – that was usefulness in order to be chosen, because if you were not useful, who would love you?

And what looked like love – that was usefulness in order to be chosen, because if you were not useful, who would love you?

My life’s path was littered with instances where I made countless efforts to know everyone truly – but never showed up as myself fully. I had abandoned myself so much, I didn’t know who to present to the world around me without being useful to someone.

Once I saw these patterns for what they truly were, the past no longer outweighed the life before me. I started believing again that my future was not lost. What had been learned in survival could now be set down. The girl who learned the patterns had done her job. It was time to bring her home.

Those are my patterns  – what are yours?

This week, I challenge you to sit quietly with yourself and write down one thing you do for people in your life – that sees you abandoning yourself to meet them where they never hold space for you.

Bring it to light and then start the practice of pausing before jumping into this one thing.

For me, it was simply choosing to not message someone who always tells me that they would like to communicate more – but reads messages and chooses to not reply to them.

I caught myself just as I was about to call them out into replying – we have done this dance too many times. And the pause taught me that I was done with the dance.

Patterns I had built and lived for years came to light with that dream. Perhaps for you, it is what may be coming up as you read this post.

You know the patterns – the actions you take automatically for others at the expense of yourself. You don’t need to abandon yourself anymore and can start breaking that pattern by choosing yourself through journaling. 

I created the journalling prompts When Did I Disappear – A self-Healing Journal because I know what it feels like to abandon oneself and the cost. To look up one day and not quite recognise the woman looking back.

This is the journal I wish someone had handed me.

Inside, you’ll find honest prompts, gentle structure, and space to do the slow work of reconnecting with who you are — beneath shame, fear, and survival.

A chance to come home to yourself, one prompt at a time.