Stepping Into Your True Strength (And Releasing Performative Strength)
If you’re an eldest daughter, you’re a badass. You’re strong as hell. You’re f*cking resilient. This is a hill I will die on and no one can change my mind.
Strength is woven into the bones and DNA of eldest daughters everywhere.
Need help with something? An eldest daughter will show up. Need solid advice? An eldest daughter will tell it like it is, while also being kind and considerate of your emotions. Want to know how to handle life’s curveballs with grace? Just look at how an eldest daughter handles unexpected situations.
We are the epitome of the “I got this” mentality.
However—and this is the important part—being strong is not only about holding it all together, helping others, and being adaptable no matter what life throws at us.
Being strong also encompasses being soft and tender and messy and asking for help and sometimes falling apart… we just often lose sight of this truth. And while being strong is one of our, for lack of a better term, strengths, it can have a tendency to get twisted into something harmful if we allow it to.
Let’s unpack this a bit.
Eldest daughters are often labeled “the strong one” by the people in their life. And, like I’ve already emphasized: eldest daughters are strong as hell. So while this label is correct, it can also overlook the complexities of what it means to be a human being and it misses the point of what being strong is really about.
The ”strong one” label often comes with the unspoken expectation that eldest daughters will absorb the stress of others, smooth over conflict, show up to help, and hold everything together without being asked.
When we use “being the strong one” as a way to carry everyone else’s emotions and neglect our own, our strength becomes a performed strength, leading us to believe we can never fall apart, never ask for help, and that we always have to hold it together for everyone else.
If we’re constantly being “strong” for everyone else, when do we have the time to be soft and vulnerable… a.k.a step into our true strength?
The answer: we don’t.
Carrying everyone else’s weight drains our physical, emotional, and spiritual reserves, leaving us feeling resentful, exhausted, burnt out, and stressed. When we’re in this performed strength mode, we’re operating from a place of depletion, not wholeness and authenticity.
In this context, strength becomes less about resilience and more about suppression of our own needs, emotions, and desires. In this context, we’re performing strength instead of standing firm in our true strength.
Let’s talk about the differences between performed strength and true strength for a minute.
Performed strength is a mask we wear to protect others, built on self-abandonment. It looks like: continuing to add commitments to your calendar, even when you’re stretched thin; not slowing down or taking breaks, even when you’re tired; and ignoring your own needs so you can show up for others.
True strength is rooted in authenticity and aligned energy. It looks like: resting when you’re tired or need a break; setting and maintaining healthy boundaries; recognizing you can’t do it all (and no longer trying to); and asking for help when you need it.
When we realize strength is actually about openness and self-trust, not endurance for the sake of others, we can step into, and embody, our true strength.
And in order to step into our true strength and leave this performed strength behind, we have to embrace our tender and vulnerable side in addition to our badass, “I got this shit” side.
But first, how do you know if you’re operating from a place of performed strength?
Take a moment (preferably in a quiet spot where you won’t be interrupted) and ask yourselves these three questions:
Do I feel resentful when others lean on me?
Do I feel a numbness or disconnection from my own needs and desires?
Do I struggle with receiving care and/or love because I’m always in a “giver” mode?
If you’ve answered yes to these questions, chances are you’re operating from a place of performed strength and not standing in your true strength. If this is the case, I invite you to be gentle with yourself. You’re not stuck here. You can choose to release performative strength and step confidently into your true strength.
Here’s how to start:
🖤Create boundaries that preserve your time and energy.
Say “no” to commitments when you’re stretched thin. Wait to respond to non-urgent texts, calls, and requests for your time until you have the bandwidth to. Take things off your plate that drain you. Standing firm in your boundaries plants you in your true strength.
🖤Let yourself rest, fall apart, and be held without shame.
When you’re tired, take a break. Cry when you’re sad. Scream into a pillow when you’re angry. Fall apart when life gets hard. Don’t hold it all in in the name of being “strong.” Ask for help when you need it. You don’t have to do it all.
🖤Implement small, daily practices (such as breath work, movement, and/or journaling) to release stored tension in your body.
I prioritize exercise, journaling, and meditation almost daily. These practices help me release tension in my body, prioritize my physical and mental well-being, and root me in my true strength.
🖤Learn to ask yourself: “Where does my strength want to flow today? Toward others, or back into me?”
If, when you answer this question, your strength wants to flow back into yourself: let it. Focus on what you need, without guilt. That’s standing in your true strength.
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Remember: Strength doesn’t have to mean carrying everyone else while ignoring yourself. That’s not real strength. True strength is letting your energy move with honesty and care, allowing yourself to be supported, and choosing softness when softness is what you need. When you reclaim your energy from the endless performance of holding it all together, you free yourself and create a new way to live, where strength and tenderness can finally exist side by side.