The Myth of Self-Reliance: Why We Heal Better Together
We Were Never Meant to Do This Alone.
Yet many of us move through life with the belief that strength equals self-sufficiency. That to need others is a burden. That healing must happen in solitude. The myth of self-reliance runs deep—especially during seasons of transformation, when our identity is shifting and the ground beneath us feels uncertain.
We may isolate ourselves not because we want to, but because we’ve internalized the belief that our messiness, our pain, our not-yet-knowing should be handled in private.
But the nervous system doesn’t thrive in isolation. It was designed for co-regulation—for healing in relationship.
Where Did We Learn to Do It Alone?
For many of us, the message started early:
Don’t cry.
Don’t need too much.
Don’t depend on anyone—they’ll let you down.
Whether those messages were direct or implied, they became rules we followed to stay safe. And in adulthood, they often morph into behaviors like over-functioning, emotional suppression, and pushing others away just when we need closeness the most.
Self-reliance can serve a purpose. It can help us survive when support is unavailable. But it is not the same thing as healing. True healing invites us to bring our pain into connection—not for someone else to fix, but simply to be seen, felt, and witnessed.
The Cost of the Hyper-Independent Era
The cultural glorification of “doing it all” has left many of us burnt out and emotionally isolated. We scroll for connection and feel lonelier. We long for support but feel ashamed to ask for it. We don’t want to seem “too much.” So we armor up and handle it.
But the body keeps score.
Isolation breeds dysregulation. Without safe relational anchors, our nervous system can ping-pong between anxiety and numbness. We think we’re managing fine, until we’re not—until our body aches, our sleep suffers, or our joy feels muted.
We aren’t weak for needing people.
We’re wired for it.
Healing in Relationship Looks Like This
Someone sits with you in silence while you cry, without trying to fix it.
A friend texts, “I’m here. No need to talk. Just letting you know I care.”
You share something vulnerable and the other person meets you with warmth, not advice.
You feel safe enough to exhale for the first time in days.
This is co-regulation. It’s what allows our bodies to shift out of survival mode. We don’t have to explain our trauma for healing to begin—sometimes, just being in the presence of someone who is grounded, kind, and attuned is enough.
Reclaiming Interdependence
Interdependence doesn’t mean giving up your autonomy.
It means remembering that you can be whole and connected.
It’s the difference between collapsing into others versus being supported by them.
It’s letting someone hold your hand while you walk your own path.
In seasons of identity shift—whether it’s becoming a parent, leaving a relationship, coming out, grieving a loss, or starting over—we need community more than ever. Not performative or shallow connection, but honest, messy, mutual connection. Spaces where we can say:
“I don’t know who I am right now.”
“This part of me is tender.”
“Can I just sit with you for a while?”
Start Small: Let One Person In
If you’ve been holding everything on your own, you don’t have to let the whole world in overnight. Start with one person. Let one safe person witness one true thing.
Text a friend and share something real, even if it feels clunky.
Ask, “Do you have space for something tender right now?”
Or offer presence to someone else. You’ll likely both feel nourished.
It might feel vulnerable. That’s okay. Vulnerability is the birthplace of intimacy, and intimacy is the soil where healing takes root.
An Invitation
Let this be your gentle reminder:
You are not too much.
You do not have to do it all alone.
There is strength in letting yourself be seen.
The myth of self-reliance may have shaped you. But it doesn’t have to define you.
You are allowed to rewrite the story. You are allowed to let others in.