"Some connections only work as long as you are the one holding them together."
If a relationship only survives when you are the one texting, planning, apologizing and fixing, it is not a connection. It is a project. At some point, you have to ask why it collapses the second you stop holding it up.
There is a specific kind of burnout that comes from being the glue in people’s lives. You are the one who reaches out first. You remember birthdays, check in after hard days, plan the hangouts, send the follow-up texts. You smooth over conflict when things get weird. You craft the long messages that start with, “I just want us to be okay.” When you are the one always holding things together, it is easy to confuse effort with intimacy. It feels like you are close because you are always working on it.
The truth usually shows up when you get tired. You pull back a little, just to breathe, and everything goes quiet. No one notices you are missing. The group chat dies. The friend who “would do anything for you” does not ask how you are. The person who always said, “You know you can talk to me,” never actually reaches out unless you initiate. The connection does not bend and adjust. It just… stops. That silence is data. It is showing you who was in relationship with you and who was just benefiting from your effort.
Some connections only work because you are willing to over-function. You double-text so no one has to feel awkward. You apologize first so the tension goes away. You drive across town while they “forget” to ask how you got home. You explain your feelings in essays while they respond with one-line replies. You carry the emotional weight and then blame yourself for feeling heavy. This dynamic does not make you loyal. It makes you over-responsible for relationships that are under-responsible for you.
Letting go of these one-sided bonds can feel brutal at first. You are not just losing people. You are losing the identity of being “the reliable one,” “the strong one,” “the one who keeps everyone together.” But you deserve connections that stay standing even when you rest. Relationships where other people also initiate, repair, and nurture without needing you to script every move. You deserve reciprocity, not just gratitude for all the labor you quietly do.
A good way to see the truth is to experiment. Stop being the first to reach out every time and watch what happens. Do not send the long repair text immediately and see who actually cares enough to come toward you. Release the belief that their lack of effort means you need to try harder. Sometimes it means you have already been trying enough for both of you. Let the ones that only work when you are holding them together fall. Then you have space for the connections that hold you back.