From Hyper-Independence to Healing: Learning to Let Go

For most of my life, I wore my hyper-independence like armour. First of all, let me be clear that I didn’t know it was hyper-independence. For me it was my strength, my pride, my proof that I could handle anything. I believed that if I wanted something done properly, I had to do it myself. That depending on people was a setup for disappointment. That no one—not even the man I chose as my partner—could be fully trusted to carry anything for me.

And for a while, it worked.

I carried it all. The weight of my responsibilities, my emotions, my struggles. I never asked for help, but I always offered it. I never showed weakness and, most certainly, I never admitted when I was drowning. But that kind of strength? It isn't strength at all. It’s survival mode.

I became hyper-independent because I had to.

Maybe you did too.

Maybe, like me, you were told—directly or indirectly—that no one was coming to save you. That you had to figure things out on your own. That people will only disappoint you. Or maybe, like me, you learned the hard way—through betrayal, through broken trust, through the painful realisation that the ones who were supposed to protect you were the very ones who hurt you.

So, you built walls. You learned to rely on yourself, and only yourself. You convinced yourself that you didn’t need anyone.

But what I never realised back then was that this kind of protection, while necessary at the time, was also isolating. It kept me safe, but it also kept me alone. And in the end, it burned me out completely.

Softening Into Trust

Now, I can look at the part of me that had to become hyper-independent and hold her with love.

I no longer resent her. I no longer wish she was different. Instead, I see her for what she was—a warrior, a survivor, a protector. She kept me safe when I needed it most. And now, I can gently tell her:

"You can rest now. You don’t have to carry it all anymore. We are safe. We can trust. And yes, people will still disappoint us—just like we, too, will sometimes let others down. But that’s not the end of the world. That’s just life. And we are strong enough to handle it."

I still have moments when I instinctively reach for that armour. When protecting myself feels familiar, powerful, safe. But I also know the loneliness that comes with it, the alienation, the exhaustion. And now, I try to choose differently.

Because true strength isn’t doing everything alone—it’s knowing when to let people in.

If you’re carrying it all by yourself, this is your reminder: You don’t have to. You are safe now. You can rest. You can trust. You don’t have to do life alone. 💖