Sara Sweat, MA – Founder, Monarch
Last weekend, a UFC fighter stood on the South Lawn of the White House — in front of the President of the United States, in front of the cameras and the country — and used his post-fight interview to take a shot at Michelle Obama.
The crowd laughed.
I’ve been sitting with this scene all week. The insult itself was small and stupid and not worth the oxygen. But what’s been troubling me is something that lies underneath it.
Here’s a woman who spent eight years as the most scrutinized person in America. She smiled through things most people would have collapsed under. She showed up, immaculately, for every single occasion and was photographed thousands of times. She is, for millions of Americans, the most admired First Lady our nation has ever known.
And still. A man in a cage on the White House lawn thought the funniest thing he could so was try to make her less.
That’s not really about Ms. Obama.
That’s about what we do to strong people.
How We Treat The Strong
Those we perceive as strong are the most under-supported people in any room. We’re not unfeeling to their concerns – we just assume they don’t have any.
We assume our words don’t have an effect. We assume they have everything they need. We assume they’re fine – regardless of what we do.
Strength reads as self-sufficiency. It says: “I’ve got this. I’m okay. How are you?” And the world, grateful and a little relieved, takes them at their word.
So, nobody checks on the person who always seems fine. Nobody asks the most capable person in the room how they’re doing.
We don’t wonder what it costs the person holding everything together to keep holding it together. We just hand them something else to hold.
The Strong Don’t Always Survive
It is easy to assume that the people who look fine – are fine. But, when we do, we take an incredible risk.
Individuals in high-responsibility roles typically delay seeking help longer than the general population. By the time they act, many are facing serious health issues, relationship dysfunction, or job performance breakdowns so severe that the impact of those symptoms is often worse than the disease.
When the strong inevitably do burnout (or in far too many cases – check out), they are met with shock, confusion, or shaming – instead of support.
We say things like…
“She always seemed fine.”
“Can you imagine? It looked like she had it all together.”
“I mean, I knew he was busy, but we had no clue anything was that bad.”
And, then we go back to eating our lunch. As though we are fully absolved of our emotional responsibility to one another because we didn’t see it coming.
The truth we have to wake up to is that the strong don’t ask for help. Because at some point being strong stops being a role becomes who they are.
And you cannot acknowledge you feel weak when the world around you is built on the premise that you are strong.
The impact of living this way is both well documented and grim. Research on the Superwoman Schema, led by Dr. Cheryl Woods-Giscombé at UNC Chapel Hill, finds increases in stress, anxiety, and depression in the women who fit this mold.
And, in one Australian study of nearly 14,000 men, suicidal ideation and attempts increased dramatically when the subjects lived by principles of emotional suppression and stoicism.
In a recent study from John’s Hopkins, among people who experienced a mental health crisis and did not seek help, the most commonly cited barrier was self-reliance.
Not cost. Not access. Not even the stigma. Self-reliance.
Because when we assume the strong are fine, they get very good at seeming fine. We reward them for it. We give them companies to run and families to lead and more committees and charters and goals than any human can reasonably carry.
The very quality that grew out of their strength keeps them from getting support.
And the tragedy is not that they’re struggling. It’s that nobody is ever going to ask them if they are.
Supported, Celebrated, Seen
This is why Monarch exists; for the strong ones everyone else is ignoring. To offer support in spite of their strength. To give them a community that celebrates them – not for how much they do; but for who they really are – vulnerabilities and all.
Maybe you’ve already done the hard work of regulating your nervous system pretty well. Maybe you’ve got a stellar diet and exercise routine that’s won you some peace. Maybe you’ve read all the self help books that there are, held the boundaries, broken the cycles, and burned the sage.
But it’s not enough, is it?
Because the strong don’t need to be saved. We need to be seen.
We need a sanctuary.
A place where strength is assumed but doesn’t need to be performed. Where we can exist without having to prove our capability or manage someone else’s lack of it.
Where the question isn’t “how can I help you fix something” but simply — how are you doing? Really.
Monarch is that place.
It’s where the strongest people I know come to stop being the strongest person in the room for a little while. To take off the cape and just be a human again.
No one checks on the strong.
But the strong, if they’re wise, find the places that do.
If you’ve been the one everyone else leans on, and you’re quietly wondering who is being strong for you – Monarch was built with exactly that in mind.
We believe no strong person should be defined by the strength. And, no one should have to be strong alone.
I hope someone is checking on our former first lady this week. I hope her community rallies around her and reminds her that she’s not alone. I hope no one in her circle assumes that “going high” in response to people “going low” doesn’t come at a cost.
And, I wish the same for you. That you have places to take the armor off, to set the strength you carry down. Places and people who invest themselves in you the way you do with everyone else.
If you don’t, consider this your invitation to join our community. We host free monthly virtual gatherings for the strong. There’s nothing for you to prove. No persona you have to maintain. Just a space where you’re supported, celebrated, and actually seen.
If you’d like join us for our next gathering, click here to let us know.
Sara Sweat is the founder of Monarch, a coaching and community platform for the strong ones who are done surviving their lives. If these sentiments sound familiar — subscribe for free; and share it with someone who is always the strongest person in the room.
