Briar Kirkby.
For years, people called me capable. I was strong and reliable; the girl that always got things done and never dropped the ball.
Sounds like a compliment, doesn’t it? But there’s a price for always being the reliable one. What it often really means is, give it to her, she will handle it. And I did.
I thought being the capable one was who I had to be. If I kept everything running, and everyone happy, then I was doing life properly.
Somewhere along the way, I started to believe my value was in how much I could carry.
What I know now, in my 60s, is that being the capable one can become a trap. You get so used to doing everything that no one notices you’re drowning. Sometimes not even you.
In your 30s, stop trying to prove yourself through exhaustion
My 30s were flat out. Working long hours, running a successful business, organising a household, raising two kids and trying to be everything to everyone.
If something needed doing, I did it. If there was a problem, I solved it. If I was tired, I pushed through.
I never asked for help because I thought capable women didn’t need help. I thought asking meant I wasn’t coping, and rest was something you earned after everything was done. (That day never comes, by the way.)
If I could go back, I would tell myself this:
- There is no medal for being exhausted.
- You do not need to prove your worth by overworking.
- Asking for help does not make you weak, it makes you smart.
In your 40s, looking fine and being fine are two different things
My 40s probably looked great from the outside. A bigger life, more responsibilities, longer work hours, four kids, a part-time nanny, a lovely home and everything appearing on track.
But underneath it all, the pressure was building quietly. There were more demands, more expectations and more emotional load, along with the constant pressure to keep everything looking like I had it all sorted.
Women become very skilled at making overwhelm look graceful. We wear capability like armour, then feel resentful when no one sees how heavy it is.
We can be falling apart internally and still remember the meetings, the lunchboxes, the forms, the birthdays and what everyone likes for dinner.
That’s not success – that’s survival in lipstick.
If I could sit down with my 40-year-old self, I would say this:
- Stop measuring your life by how it looks from the outside.
- Acting ‘fine’ is not the same as being fine.
- Please understand that holding it all together is not the same thing as being happy.
In your 50s, the body starts asking questions
My 50s were gruelling. I was running two businesses, building a home, had bigger expectations from my ex-husband, and I was managing the kids, private school fees and a divorce.
There was always something to manage or fix. And because I had spent years being the capable one, people expected me to keep going.
That’s the danger of becoming known as the strong one – everyone assumes you’ll be fine, even when you’re not.
Then life changed.
I faced cancer, and let me tell you something honestly, people think divorce is hard. Fighting for your life is a whole different level.
When you go through something like that, your perspective changes very quickly. You start to see what matters, and what doesn’t. You realise how much of your life has been spent carrying things that were never yours to carry.
If I could go back, I would tell myself this:
- You’re allowed to slow down before something forces you to.
- Start questioning the life you’re holding together.
- And trust that choosing yourself doesn’t need to be justified.
What I know now
If I had my time again, I would still work hard. That’s who I am, like I know many of you are too.
But I would stop confusing struggle with success. I would ask for help sooner and say no more often. I would let some things be messy and rest before life forced me to. And I would remember that being loved for what you do is not the same as being loved for who you are.
Because I see it now: women everywhere repeating the same pattern, doing too much, carrying everyone, putting themselves last, laughing off exhaustion and calling burnout “just a busy season”.
Please don’t wait for a breakdown, a diagnosis, a divorce or a disaster to change your life.
Make life softer now. Ask for support now. Choose yourself now.
What actually matters
Looking back, it wasn’t the perfect looking life that mattered. I’ve learned that what truly matters is your health, your peace, your energy, your laughter, your freedom, your joy, and the people in your life.
Being capable is lovely. But being happy in your life is better.
