Sara Sweat, MA – Founder, Monarch
It’s Saturday morning for everyone but you.
The people you love more than life itself are sitting around the kitchen table eating pancakes. Somebody is arguing for their favorite playlist. Someone else is wadding up a napkin to shoot at their brother’s head.
There is coffee. There is laughter. There are sleepy faces and half-finished conversations about soccer, errands, maybe going to see a movie later if the weather turns gross.
It’s lovely. Like a Hallmark movie, really. A perfect Saturday morning.
Except you are not having Saturday morning. You’re making it.
You’re flipping pancakes while trying to remember which field the soccer game is on this week. You’re unloading the dishwasher because there are no clean water bottles & everyone will need one soon. You’re putting in a load of laundry because there is only one pair of green soccer socks that haven’t somehow become sentient and migrated to an undisclosed location.
You’re busy locating the cleats and checking the radar to see if the rain will hold off until after the game.
You’re packing snacks because the game is at the exact hour when your younger children will become medically incapable of surviving without a granola bar.
While you’re loading the car, you’re thinking about whether the field is going to be muddy, whether the folding chairs are still in the trunk, whether anyone will need sunscreen at any point, and whether you can possibly get the dog walked before everyone leaves.
Just then, someone calls from the Hallmark movie happening at your kitchen table: “Hey, what time do we need to leave for the game?”
And you pause.
Not because it’s an unreasonable question. But, because it has triggered a white, hot, rage the explosion of which would blast your family to another galaxy.
Because even though you’re the person standing in the kitchen, holding a spatula, doing the dishes, trying to find a left soccer cleat, and mentally calculating snacks…you are now somehow also Father Time.
You know the answer. That’s not the problem. It’s 10:38 AM. It’s always 22 minutes from game time. You know this. Anyone capable of basic math could know this.
But, they don’t have to. Because your competence means everyone else can enjoy their Saturday morning. You’ve got it. You’ve always got it.
Except there’s one irrevocable truth everyone in your life seems to have forgotten.
Your competence does not equal consent.
The Difference Nobody Sees
The people around you are not doing nothing.
Your partner will absolutely take the trash out if you ask. Your child will feed the dog if you tell them to. Your friend will bring ice for the cooler if you ask them to pick it up.
It’s the same at work. Your colleague will finish the slide deck if you make the request clear enough, provide the context, define the deadline, remind them twice, answer the question they could have Googled, and explain what “finished” means. But, they’ll do it.
The people in your life are not lazy. They’re not malicious.
No one is sitting around twirling their tiny villain mustache while you quietly become the unpaid chief operating officer of every life you touch.
The people who love us…love us. They are usually kind and generous and genuinely confused why asking what time we need to leave for the game has unleashed a demon from inside your body.
Because from where they sit, they’re doing everything you asked them to. And, they are.
They’re just failing to see everything else.
“Just Tell Me What You Need”
At some point, someone will say it right to your face. Usually, in the most well intentioned way.
“Just tell me what you need.”
You, in turn, will smile the way a person smiles when they are trying not to cry in public.
Because their attempt at support has just given a person who feels like they need octopus arms to carry everything – another entire octopus to hold.
You do not need someone to ask for an assignment.
You do not need to retain responsibility for noticing the problem, deciding what needs to be done, asking for help, assigning the role, explaining the context, answering the questions, arguing over the conclusions, following up, inspecting the result, and cleaning up the consequences.
That is not help. That is exhausting. But, it’s become the way you go through life.
Somewhere, a grown adult is asking whether the frozen food should go in the freezer.
Somewhere, a teenager is shoving a empty milk jug into an already overflowing trash can because no one has asked them to take it out.
Somewhere, a loving life partner is complaining about the mildew smell coming from the washing machine without ever once moving a load of wash into the dryer before it was ripe.
The person who does it all, the default adult, does not need more people doing exactly as they are told.
They need people who will look around and notice what needs to happen next.
The Cost of Their Ease
The people who love you likely don’t even realize that their ease has come at a cost.
They may think you like being organized. You said that once, right?
They may have noticed you’re just naturally better at a task than they are. I mean, you are.
They assume you would say something if it were too much. Lord knows, they would.
They help whenever they are asked and believe their helpfulness is evidence of an equitable partnership.
But while they are waiting to be asked, you are working. While they are enjoying the gathering, you are managing it. While they are doing their one assigned task, you are holding the entire list of tasks that have not yet been assigned.
This is how someone can be surrounded by people who love them and still feel deeply alone.
And, so many people are. Alone inside a shared life.
Because nobody else seems to understand the real job.
Nobody sees the work behind the work. The calculations, the contingencies, the context, the remembering, the emotional landscape, and the small interventions that prevent this delicately balanced world you’ve built together from going off the rails.
After enough years of that, the person carrying it all doesn’t just get tired.
They start to disappear.
They become less playful. Less available. Less interested in another family gathering, another work initiative, another meal. They stop signing up for the weekend that somehow requires military-grade coordination because they know they’re gonna draw the short stick and end up with that job.
They’re not trying to punish anyone. They genuinely love their life.
But, they are exhausted from being the only person who seems to believe that a shared life requires shared ownership.
You Are Not Asking for Too Much
One of the most common questions I get from clients is “am I just asking too much?” To which, I typically offer an emphatic “no.”
No one is going to make pancakes exactly like you make pancakes. But, someone else needs to know the recipe.
Someone else needs to be capable of noticing you’re out of eggs and run to the grocery store on Thursday to pick some up so they’re ready for Saturday morning.
Someone else needs to know that if a blueberry even touches little Timmy’s pancake he will refuse to eat the whole stack. But, a strawberry topping will ensure they’re gobbled up.
You’re not asking for too much. It’s just that everyone in your life has signed up to be your backup. But, you don’t need back up. You need someone else to take ownership.
Ownership means someone else learns the task well enough to carry it from beginning to end.
They understand the actual outcome you’re after —not just the narrow thing they were assigned to do. They anticipate reasonable consequences. They troubleshoot. They figure out what they do not know and complete the work at a level that requires no one else to monitor it, repair it, or keep it alive in their brain.
So, if someone is responsible for paying the phone bill, ownership does not mean they click “pay” and call it a day.
It means they understand which account has the money in it. They consider what other expenses are coming out. They notice if their decision will create an overdraft, a declined grocery card, or another problem that becomes yours to solve.
They don’t simply complete the assignment. They own the outcome.
Because when another person owns an outcome, you get to put it down.
At least long enough to have a Saturday morning.
Growing Pains
When you’re got other owners in your life, it can make all the difference in the world. Eventually.
There will absolutely be hiccups and growing pains along the way. And, you’re going to need a fair amount of patience for what comes next.
Because, I promise you, once you start talking about this with your loved ones they are going to have all kinds of feelings about it.
Someone will get defensive about all they already do and wonder aloud why it’s not enough. Breathe.
Someone is going to own a new task and just as it looks like they’re getting it down, they’re gonna screw it right up. And you’re going to feel like nothing is ever going to be off your plate ever again. Take a walk.
One person will actually assume ownership of a task and then will tell you about about how they did it, like 47 times as if they’re waiting for you to throw a parade in their honor. Grab a ballon, man – progress is progress.
At least once, some very special person is going to offer you unsolicited “feedback” on how you do one of the 27 million impossible things you do every day and you’re going to want to remove their head from their neck with corkscrew. It is important that you don’t.
I mean, friend. If someone in your life sees you doing the impossible and all they can think about is how you could be doing it better – that’s a person without nearly enough ownership. They’re the first people I’d recruit into the “get off your butt and do something club”.
“The pancakes are a little cold, sweetie. You know, if you kept them in the oven as you were cooking, they’d stay warm longer.”
“Oh, really, Chad? Congratulations! You’ve correctly identified an inefficiency. This is your job now, pancake man. Good luck figuring out what Timmy will eat.”
Anyone who feels compelled to offer insight needs to be willing to help – or they’ve defeated the purpose of the whole exercise. And, that’s worth setting straight from the start.
We don’t need people trying to identify a problem. We need people noticing how much it’s costing us to solve all the problems on our plate. So, be clear and specific with what kind of help you’re looking for. And, be patient with the learning process of it all.
I know you can do it. You’re wildly competent…or you wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with.
Remembering
This is all going to feel very strange to you at first. Trusting other people to own things and then watching them do it differently than you’d have done it yourself. Letting things be messy while other people learn.
Yet again suffering the avoidable consequences of other people’s lack of preparation or poor execution.
That last one stings a little bit, doesn’t it? That’s because it’s an old wound.
That’s because chances are you learned how to be responsible for everything because you went through a time in your life when nobody else was.
Maybe you were raised in a home where somebody had to be the grown-up and it turned out that somebody had to be you. Maybe you learned early that being prepared kept you safe. Maybe you were simply good at things, and people kept giving you more because you handled it so well.
Whatever the reason, you learned to see what others missed.
You learned to anticipate, to organize, and to make really spectacular lemonade out of some very bitter lemons.
You became the person other people can count on. And, that’s a beautiful and precious gift.
But, being good at something does not mean you want to own it forever.
The fact that you haven’t fallen apart yet doesn’t mean you are not exhausted.
And, being able to handle the hard thing does not automatically make it yours.
The people who love you are not trying to take advantage of you on purpose.
But if they’re comfortable enjoying the life you create without being curious about what it costs you to create it, it’s time for an uncomfortable conversation.
You are getting left alone to carry a burden that was built to belong to everyone.
So, yeah, it’s gonna be hard to allow people more ownership. And, to ask for what you need. But, not as hard as being the default adult in every area of your life. So, you’ve got this.
A Note for the People You Love
If you are reading this because someone you love sent it to you, you’re being invited into a discussion.
The person who sent this may not know exactly how to explain what they’ve been carrying. And, they don’t need you to magically make all their problems go away or defend the work you’ve already done. They love you like crazy. That’s why they’re letting you in.
What they need you to do is become curious. To understand that there’s a way they’ve been doing life that’s sucking the life right out of them. And, they want to try something else.
You can start by asking yourself: When was the last time I really noticed what was on this person’s plate? And, what are they doing that I don’t even see?
The things they’re remembering. The problems they’re preventing. The decisions they are making before anyone else even knows a decision needs to be made. Where are the consequences they’re absorbing so everyone else can have a softer, lighter, life?
Then…listen.
Please don’t rush to fix it. Because they don’t need to be fixed. They need to be seen.
Listen. Learn. Engage.
The goal is not for you to do more while they do less. Though, that may happen as a consequence, I have to warn you. But, the real goal is to exist in the same reality again. To figure this out together so you can both enjoy the life you love. To create the conditions that allow them to come back to themselves.
We call high-capacity people like the one you love, Monarchs. They have spent years developing the skills that allow them to see farther, hold more, and make a way forward for themselves and everyone in their orbit. And, they love what they have built.
But Monarchs were not made to spend their whole lives hopping around on the ground trying to be the prefrontal cortex of everyone they’ve ever met. Monarchs are meant to soar.
They deserve to be seen.
They deserve to rest.
And, they deserve to have a Saturday morning, too.
So, if you love a person who’s carrying everything, don’t let them carry it alone.
Monarch is coaching and community for the people keeping everyone else afloat. If you’re ready to create a life that actually supports you – book a free 30 minute introductory call. And, let’s use your competence to build the life of your dreams.
