The Myth of Self-Reliance

being strong doesn't mean going without

Photo by Taylor Brandon on Unsplash

My kitchen has a single, west-facing window, and during the three months in Seattle when you can actually see the sun, the light tends to hit me right in the eyes as I’m cooking dinner. This isn’t really a problem: the window has blinds. No, the problem is that I am usually so wrapped up in whatever phase of the cooking process I’m in (not to mention refereeing my kids’ arguments) that the patter going through my mind is basically, “Ugh that light is right in my eyes! I need to close the blinds! I’ll do that right after I just do this one thing.” And then that one thing turns into another, which turns into another, and soon dinner is finished and I’m extremely irritated and unsure why.

(The why is me neglecting my own needs.) Because, shockingly, YOUR NEEDS DON’T GO AWAY IF YOU JUST IGNORE THEM.

But doesn’t it seem like they should? Hasn’t our culture taught us that we shouldn’t need anything? Hasn’t it taught us that we’re all meant to be rugged little cowboys, cowgirls, or non-binary cowfolk, who could, theoretically, set off for the frontier and survive completely alone? Likewise, Modern Evangelicalism (coming off the Moral Majority/Religious Right movements) emphasizes “personal responsibility” as a national cure-all.

Of course, responsibility is a virtue. Those who don’t learn to take responsibility for their actions become permanent victims and chronic blame shifters. But I’ve come to see that self-reliance and responsibility can be like any drug—the dose makes the poison.

It was in therapy that I learned my eldest-daughter-accomplish-everything superpowers were actually a trauma response. I was pretty insulted when my therapist made an offhand comment to the effect of, “well, you do tend to be overly responsible,” as if it were a bad thing! My ability to get shit done was the primary way I garnered approval from others.

But, like my inability to pause from cooking to close the damn blinds, being overly self-reliant leads to me overlooking or discounting my own needs and mistaking this for strength.

In its worst cases, being overly responsible/self-reliant leads to people who care more for others than they do for themselves. Overly self-reliant people can become doormats for those with substance use disorders or other mental health issues, because we pride ourselves on never needing anything in return from our loved ones. The mental chatter goes like this, “I would really like my partner to do X, Y, or Z, but look at what they’re going through! I couldn’t possibly expect them to meet my needs.”

While all relationships go through periods of one partner needing more support than they can reciprocate, chronic one-sidedness can be deeply unhealthy.

If being too independent is a bad thing, and being too dependent is also unhealthy, what should we aim for? The answer is healthy interdependence. I picture it like one of those teambuilding exercises where everyone sits on each other’s laps at the same time. These are relationships where we can lean on each other but also recognize that our needs are our own to meet. For example, if I’m having a rough day and my husband is also overloaded, he might not be able to offer me much empathy while I vent. If he begs off, it’s not a rejection, it’s him putting on his own oxygen mask. And since I recognize that my needs are my own responsibility to meet, I can lean on another friend or family member. Maybe that sounds similar to self-reliance, but the difference is I don’t discount my needs or his, instead, I look for other ways to get my needs met. If you’re curious to learn more about this, there are some great YouTube resources on Nonviolent Communication.

Part of the reason healthy interdependence often feels difficult is that it generally isn’t modeled well. Our cultural tropes around love talk either of being addicted to/dying for love, or, paradoxically, not needing anything/anyone, with scarcely anything in between. Meanwhile capitalist gender roles creep into our relationships more than we’d care to admit, with their ethos of exploitation, dominance, and dependence.

Motherhood, has, oddly enough, helped me learn to honor my needs. I try to treat myself with as much care as my own children. If we’re going out for a long time, I pack myself the same snacks and water I’d pack for my kids. If I’m having a hard time, I can turn my maternal eye on myself: am I Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired? What would I do for myself if I were one of my kids? Give myself some alone time? Maybe I need some physical exercise to complete the stress cycle? Instead of listening to that voice in my head that tells me my needs are unimportant or make me weak, I tune into my inner loving parent.

It turns out, getting my needs met makes me a much nicer person to be around. Before I would get gradually tapped out over the course of the day and find myself yelling at my kids as I scrambled to cook dinner. Now I can sense when I need some alone time during the day, plan that in, and get to the end of the day without feeling exhausted. Contrary to being selfish, honoring my own needs makes me a kinder, more responsive mother.

As we come to the end of this Summer of Pleasure, I want to acknowledge how pleasure is a sign of healing. Pleasure means learning to acknowledge our needs and honor them. It’s a way of saying to our stressed-out nervous systems, “We’re safe now, we can attend to our needs.” A cold glass of water on a hot day is a pleasure. Laying down on the floor for five minutes after being on your feet all day is a pleasure. And so is closing the blinds.

Do you find yourself being overly self-reliant or responsible? What are some ways you remind yourself that your needs matter? Leave a comment below so we can learn from each other. And if you have a friend or loved one who could use a break, why not share this post with them?