The Cost of Carrying Too Much

The breaking point was not dramatic. No crash, no collapse, no cinematic burnout moment. It was something small: an email that landed wrong, a minor request that felt impossibly heavy, a quiet sense that one more thing might tip the scales.

That is the thing about carrying too much. It is rarely one giant load that undoes you. It is the steady layering of weight, one obligation at a time, until even the lightest thing feels unbearable.

I have always been praised for my capacity, for grit, for resilience, for being the one who can handle it all. And for a long time, I wore that praise like a medal. It was proof of strength. Proof of worth. Proof that I was someone others could rely on.

But here is the truth I have had to face: every medal has a cost. And sometimes the price of carrying too much is losing yourself under the weight.

The Praise of Carrying It All

It starts with good intentions. You want to help. You want to show up. You want to prove you are capable. So you say yes. Again. And again. And again.

At first, people cheer you on. You are amazing. You are unstoppable. I do not know how you do it. The admiration feels good. It feeds something deep, especially if you have built your identity around being strong and dependable.