Sometimes Being STRONG Means SURRENDERING
- Deon Cecile
- 1 day ago
- 6 min read
Updated: 1 day ago
I've always been the one people turn to when things fall apart. The shoulder everyone leans on, or the person who somehow seems to have it together. For most of my life, I believed this was my greatest strength. But sometimes life has a way of teaching us that our greatest strengths can also become our greatest limitations.
There’s a tree I recently stood gazing at - twisted, rooted, weathered, and beautiful. It didn’t stand tall in a straight line, but it stood. No perfection, not even control, but it had presence and strength. As I stared at it, the words from Mary J. Blige’s movie, “Strength of a Woman,” came back to me: “Sometimes being strong means surrendering.”
Have you ever heard someone say, “Yuh know say dah something deh give me a b*tch slap?” Well, that tree, those words, and my thoughts thereafter were my b*tch slap moment. It hit me hard and deep. Why? Because all my life I’ve been called “The Strong One.” And I’ve worn that label like a badge of honor, my bodysuit and armor. But nobody tells you that sometimes the strongest thing you can do…is let go.
The Only Girl
I grew up as the only girl with three older brothers. And no, I’m not spoiled - well, maybe just a tad bit, anyway, I digress. My parents, my mom in particular (rest her soul), always referred to me as the strong one, with the fire, the little fixer, Miss Dependable - even when I was miserable about it. The steady one. The responder. The one who never seems to break, never bends, never really shows that she’s hurting. When my mom died, one of my brothers said the same thing: “You’re the strongest one among us.”
I smiled at this. But inside? I was barely holding it together.
Strength, as I understood it, meant always being “ok.” Even when I was nowhere near it, the world expects “the strong” to never falter. But strength without vulnerability can become a silent burden.
When Strength Becomes Self-Sabotage
The truth is, always being "the strong one" can lead to self-neglect/self-sabotage - ignoring one’s own needs, pushing through exhaustion, never asking for help, always smiling. This pattern of existence finally caught up with me. At the end of 2022, I reached my breaking point, and in early 2023, I did something no one expected: I walked away from a job demanding more than I could give. I also gave up being a part of things that demanded too much of me. I could no longer be strong for the job, my family, my friends, and myself all at once. I was burning out in silence, sabotaging my well-being in the name of “holding it together.”
As if the universe wanted to emphasize the lesson, a few months later I discovered I was also navigating perimenopause – talk about a slap-down!
It was a difficult decision and a difficult season.
For those who know me, I don’t make decisions without having plans A–F sorted; "the just in case this doesn’t go as planned scenario worked out." I had no plans, just a short course, a conference, and plane tickets lined up. Did I know what my next job would be? Nope. Did I know how I was gonna survive without a steady income? Nope. Did it matter at the time? NOPE!
But this was the first step towards healing. Looking back now, healing without plans and an income seems like an oxymoron – don’t you think? But sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is admit you’re not okay and give yourself permission to stop and fix it.
The Uncomfortable Grace of Not Knowing
Those months without a clear plan taught me a few things:
I could survive uncertainty
My worth wasn't tied to my productivity
Rest wasn't laziness - it was necessary
I already had everything I needed
I could sit with discomfort without immediately trying to fix it, and
Asking for help didn't mean I had failed.
Trust that sometimes the path reveals itself only when we're brave enough to take the first step into the unknown.
Strength Isn’t Always About Control
Somewhere along the way, many of us (women and men), especially those who are often "the strong ones," have confused control with strength. We think that if we’re not managing every outcome, fixing every problem, or putting everyone else first, we’re failing or being unkind. But strength isn’t about clenching our fists and smiling while suffering in silence; it’s about knowing when to open our hands, speak up, and let go.
I’m still learning. Letting go isn’t easy.
What Trees Teach Us About Strength
As I reflect on my journey, I’m reminded of the strength of trees. The tree in the cover photo is far from perfect – its trunk is gnarled, weathered, and leaning. It splits and rejoins. But it’s still rooted. Standing tall. Still alive. Still beautiful.
Trees endure storms, shed their leaves, and even bend with the wind. They don’t panic in drought. They draw from deeper places. Yes, some may break in the storm, but they still survive. Their resilience comes not from rigidity, but from their ability to adapt and surrender to the seasons. They let go of what no longer serves them every autumn and start again.
Like trees, we were never meant to stay rigid. We were made to bend, shed, root, rest, and bloom again.
Surrender Isn’t Giving Up — It’s Letting In
Here’s one truth I’m finally starting to accept: surrendering isn’t giving up. It’s giving in to grace, timing, healing, truth, courage, peace, and getting help. It’s in releasing the idea that you must always have the answers, always be available, always keep it all together. And, sometimes, the real flex (as the youngsters say) is in allowing yourself to fall apart, to be vulnerable, trusting the process that you’ll rebuild as a better, fuller, freer, and happier person.
Closing the Loop, Embracing the Flow
So now, I ask myself more gentle, reflective questions:
What if strength isn’t about how much I can carry…but how much I can release?
What if being “the strong one” means showing my scars, not hiding them?
What if it’s more than ok, to not be ok?
What if surrendering means finding the freedom to grow?
If you’re reading this and you’ve been the rock for everyone else, "the strong one," please pause.
Breathe. Let Go. Be. It’s not too late to shift. To heal. To start over.
And the next time someone calls you strong, smile. But know that real strength might be the softness you show, the boundaries you set, the “no” you finally say, or the help you’re brave enough to ask for.
How do you surrender when it all seems too much? Please share your comments below.
For more lessons learned from trees, read "My Love Affair with Trees."
JOIN MY COMMUNITY
Welcome to Penned Inspiration - where we're "Writing Your Stories and Mine, One Letter at a Time."
Hi, I am Deon Cecile, a Jamaican Writer, Blogger, and Aspiring Author. I've dedicated this corner of the digital world to celebrating Women Over 40, Wellness, Lifestyle, Organizing, Decluttering, and the Extraordinary in the Everyday. Here, wellness isn't about perfection – it's about progress. Lifestyle isn't about keeping up – it's about showing up authentically. Every story, every insight, every moment of vulnerability shared here serves one purpose: to remind you that you are exactly where you need to be, with everything you need to flourish, and you are not alone.
I invite you to delve into my content today and discover something that may help, inspire, or make you smile. I hope you enjoy reading. Please feel free to leave a comment or idea below. I'd love to hear from you.
LET'S BUILD SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL TOGETHER
Your story matters, and I can't wait to hear it. Don't just read, connect with me here or on my social media platforms below. Your presence and interaction spark joy that I'm forever grateful️ for receiving.
SHOP WITH MY AFFILIATE LINKS
There are affiliate links throughout this article. Affiliate links mean I earn a small commission, at no additional cost to you, when you click on any of the links and make an actual purchase.
I felt this article to my core. I too have been working on letting go of what I thought being the strong one meant. It has been a tiring garment! Thank you for sharing this article with the world. I know I appreciated it.
Thank you for being vulnerable and for sharing your story and for the many gems of wisdom that you shared. Here is to integrating these actions into everyday life: Breathe. Let Go. Be.!