What I once thought was my superpower, is really a defense mechanism
I’m sure these confessions are unexpected to only my hyper-independent self. But that’s understandable considering I’ve been in denial for a long time.
Took me a minute to accept that I was a hyper-independent woman. A few years ago, I placed so much value on being resourceful and my ability to figure “it’ out on my own. I was proud to be Ms. Independent. It was my strength, my superpower. I was just lucky enough to be born this way. But in reality, it was a learned behavior. Somewhere along the way I thought it’s best to do everything on my own and not rely on anyone else. I developed the inability to ask for help.
When I was approximately 6 years old, I casually turned to her and said some variation of “When I grow up I want to live on my own, have a job, and wake up every day dressed in my suit, heels, and attaché case and go to work”. Can you tell the 80s and early 90s movies were my jam? cue Melanie Griffith in Working Girl.
I was well into my teens when I prayed to God that if I had to choose my career and gain my independence, or get married first, I choose my independence. As a woman in her mid-30s, I didn’t know how potent this “hypothetical” game was – the power of the tongue! Clearly, he chose that moment to give me the desires of my teenage ignorant heart. You know, I keep trying to tap into that power and ask for lotto numbers or instant wealth but Skydaddy has selective hearing.
Anyway, I digress…
Within the last couple of years, I’ve realized that I wore the label “independence” like a badge of honor for the wrong reasons. Frankly, it has led to burnout and loneliness. If I told you I’ve figured it out and now love being independent for all the “right” reasons, I’d be lying. I’m still on the struggle bus portion of this journey.
So here are my confessions, from a hyper-independent woman:
I’m not a fan of depending on someone else
Through a lot of inner work, coaching, and therapy, I can now see that trying to figure out everything on my own was my inability to ask for help. This is still hard for me, I won’t lie. I remember my former coach gave me an assignment: “This week, I want you to ask 5 people for help. It can be anything. eg. Ask someone for book recommendations”. I thought “oh small things, that’s easy”. It was so “easy” that I reported asking zero people for help the following week. Yikes.
Vulnerability gives me the ick
Being vulnerable means willingly putting myself at risk of being hurt. Who in their right mind would do this shit of their own free will? Apparently, those of us who want the chance to experience the other side of the coin: love, acceptance, and being cherished. So here I am, out here, being intentionally vulnerable and I’m still in the phase where it feels cringe. Send help. And prayers.
I want to live that soft girl life…when I feel like it
The most fascinating thing independent women have in common? Wanting to be babied sometimes. When I say babied I don’t mean it to sound trivial. Quite the opposite. I think it’s vital to our mental health. After spending our days girl-bossing, we want to be cherished and taken care of. I want to be cherished and taken care of. But I don’t want to be controlled. I guess I want to have my cake and eat it too? But the problem is this requires vulnerability and we’ve already established our reservations with that above. See the dilemma?
I used to think being hyper-independent was my superpower
My ability to spot a bullshitter before they shat on me is a life skill I once boasted about. I still think it’s a sweet skill to have to be honest. Being mindful of what I shared with strangers and friends was second nature. But I’ve come to realize it’s also my weakness. This skill leaves little room for understanding and forgiveness. In a world where we’re all flawed human beings, everyone has a little bullshitter in them at times. Unfortunately, this means I was closing myself off from everybody. But I can’t baby myself now can I? Well I guess I can but where’s the fun in that.
I’m learning that being hyper-independent is not a personality trait, it’s a trauma response.
I’ve recently admitted to myself that being hyper-independent is not my strength, but a cry for help. It’s me trying to control all things at all times because I have been let down and disappointed one too many times. I’ve also learned that some things are not even based on our own experiences but passed down through the blood, sweat, and tears of those further up in the family tree. Y’all? Did you know that and I’m just late to the game?! Not the kind of inheritance I’m looking for fam, but thanks?
This realization has helped me have a little more compassion for my family and myself.
“Viewed in this way, the traumas we inherit or experience firsthand can not only create a legacy of distress, but also forge a legacy of strength and resilience that can be felt for generations to come.” – ― Mark Wolynn, It Didn’t Start with You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle
Hyperindependence is now a term I can’t dodge when describing myself. My inner work now is centered around addressing the root causes of this and hopefully evolving to accept I can’t control everything and need to open up to others and trust a little.
Vulnerability still gives me the ick…I’m a work in progress after all. But like they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
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