We’ve all been there—someone we care about comes to us, overwhelmed by their circumstances. We listen. We offer suggestions. But what they really want is a quick fix, and often, one that lets them off the hook from actually doing the work. Sometimes people just need a break, and it’s kind to help where we can. But more often, the most loving thing we can do is encourage them to help themselves.
My Turning Point
Before I began my recovery journey, I constantly looked to others to rescue me from my own messes. I played the victim, and life felt so unmanageable that it was easier to expect someone else to clean it up.
The truth? My thinking was broken. My perception was skewed. I had no healthy tools or coping mechanisms. So when I finally reached out for real help, I was asked one question that changed everything:
“What are you willing to do?”
And for the first time, I said: Anything.
That was the moment things shifted. I had to fall far enough down into despair before I became willing to fight for my life. And fight I did.
Recovery taught me that this new way of living would only work if I worked it. No one could do it for me. I had to believe I was worth the effort—and that belief became the spark that lit my path forward.
With each milestone I earned, my self-esteem and self-worth grew. I began to think about the younger version of myself—the one I’d neglected, the one I’d hurt. I made a commitment to her that I would never abandon her again. That’s who I fight for now. That’s who I protect.
Why Doing the Work Matters
You can’t do the work for someone else. And if you try, you’re actually robbing them of something vital: the opportunity to grow.
Growth comes from struggle. Strength is built through effort. Confidence is earned through consistency. When we do someone else’s heavy lifting, we deny them the chance to build the muscle they’ll need to stand on their own.
Of course, we can offer support. We can stand beside someone and remind them they’re not alone. But we must let them take the lead. Not only is it healthier for them—it’s healthier for us, too.
Practicing this kind of boundary is a form of self-respect. It’s a reminder that we’re not responsible for fixing everyone’s life. That people-pleasing, over-functioning, and rescuing don’t lead to healing—they often lead to resentment.
You can love someone deeply and still let them do their own work. In fact, that might be the greatest form of love there is.
SLAY on.
SLAY Reflection: Where Are You Over-Functioning?
- Do you often take responsibility for someone else’s problems? Why?
- How has doing your own inner work changed your sense of self-worth?
- What lessons would you have missed if someone else had done the work for you?
- Can you think of someone in your life who needs to do their own work? What boundary could you set to support them without enabling them?
- How can standing beside someone—rather than carrying them—be an act of love?
Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you’ve learned to step back and let someone else do their own work—and how did that shift your relationship with them or yourself?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.
And if you know someone who’s always trying to rescue others, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that loving someone doesn’t mean fixing them.
