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I'M TIRED OF BEING THE ONE WHO UNDERSTANDS EVERYBODY · Back Porch Confessions

• Gravesb41: Sometimes my soul is just tired, tired of being strong, tired of carrying the heaviness, tired of fighting battles nobody else can see. And maybe you know that kind of tired too. The kind of tired that doesn't come from sleep, the kind of tired that settles deep in your heart, your mind and your spirit, the kind that comes from surviving, enduring, holding it all together and still showing up when your life had tried to take everything out of you. But here's the truth. Being tired does not mean you are weak, it does not mean you are broken, and it does not mean your story is over. At Renewed Mind we talk about the hard things, the hidden heaviness, the silent battles, the trauma, the grief, the healing, and the fight to keep going when your soul feels weary. This is the place where strong people can finally tell the truth, where healing gets honest, where pain is spoken out loud. And where the ones who have spent their whole lives pouring into others can find a space to breathe, be seen, and remember they are worth the battle too because sometimes the healer needs healing. Sometimes the strong ones need somewhere soft to land, and sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is admit you're tired and keep choosing to heal anyway. This is renewed mind, real talk, real pain, real healing. One honest conversation at a time. Welcome to Back Porch Confessions, where the sweet tea is strong, the stories are stronger, and no topic is too taboo for the porch. Grab a seat, kick off your shoes, and let's get into the kind of conversation your mama warned you about, but you listen anyway. Back Porch Confessions: Hey, it's Backporch Confessions. Today we are speaking on I'm tired of being the one who understands everybody. When you give everybody grace, but nobody seems to save any for you. So it is hosted by me, Barbara McCormick, and come on up. Come to the porch. Hey, hey, everybody. It's me, Barbara, and welcome back to Backporch Confessions. Grab your coffee, grab your seat, sweet tea, water, whatever it is you're drinking today, because we are about to have one of those conversations that might hit a little closer to home than you expected. And before anybody comes at me, I'm not saying this is me. But anyway, and before we get started, I need to ask you something. Have you ever gotten so tired of understanding everybody that you just wanted somebody, anybody, to understand you for a change? good grief. You understand why somebody's having a bad day. You understand why they snapped at you. You understand why they didn't call at all. You understand why they forgot. You understand why they lied, why they were distant. You understoy something hurtful. You even understand their child childhood trauma, per se, their attachment issues, their insecurities, their fears, their stress, and their emotional baggage. And at some point, you could probably write a whole psychological dissertation on why everybody in your life behaves the way they do. I mean, I know I can. But the minute you have a bad day, the minute you react, the minute you say something wrong, the minute you need some grace, suddenly everybody's understanding department is closed for renovations, right? And apparently nobody knows when it's open or if it's going to reopen. So, Lord have mercy. Today I'm going to be talking about something I think a lot of us compassionate, empathetic, emotionally aware people experience. The exhaustion of always being the one understanding. The one who gives people the benefit of the doubt. The one who tries to see everybody's perspective, the one who believes they're good in people all the time, the one who forgives, the one who listens, the one who tries to keep. peace. The one who's always saying, well, maybe they're going through something. Maybe they didn't mean it. Maybe they're hurting over something. Maybe I should give them another chance. And sometimes, you know, that can be beautiful. Compassion is a beautiful quality. Understanding is important. Grace is important. Forgiveness is important. But what happens when those beautiful qualities become expectations that everybody else benefits from while you're left emotionally exhausted? So what happens when everybody expects you to understand their behavior, but nobody wants to understand your reactions to being hurt? What happens when you're always the bigger person, always the peacekeeper, always the one extending the olive branch? And what happens when you finally say, I'm tired? I'm tired of explaining. I'm tired of being misunderstood. I I I I'm tired of defending my character. And I'm tired of hearing half-truths and watching people believe them without ever asking me what actually happened. I'm tired of being the one who sees everybody else's humanity while mine goes overlooked. Or gets under overlooked, I guess, would be the proper English. That's what we're talking about today, because there's a difference between having a compassionate heart and carrying everybody else's emotional responsibilities. And trust me, honey, some of us have been carrying luggage that doesn't even belong to us for years. We've got everybody's trauma in one little suitcase, probably not even it's a big ass suitcase, everybody's excuses in another one, everybody's problems in the overhead compartment. And somehow we're the ones paying the baggage fees, right? Not today. So today we're unpacking that luggage and we're going to figure out what belongs to us and what needs to be returned to its rightful owner. I've had some of these talks already, so this is just going to be a different layer level or layer of that onion. So part one is the person who understands everybody. Let's begin with a question. Why do some people become the understanding one in almost every relationship? Sometimes it's personality. Some people are naturally curious, compassionate, and attentive to others. Sometimes it's values. Maybe you were raised to be kind. Maybe your faith taught you to show grace. Maybe you genuinely believe that everybody deserves to be heard. But sometimes our understanding comes from something deeper, right? Sometimes it comes from childhood experiences. Maybe we grew up in a home where You had to pay close attention to everybody's mood. You learned to recognize when somebody was angry, when somebody was disappointed, when somebody was about to withdraw affection. Maybe somebody needed comforting and you became very good at anticipating other people's emotions because understanding them helped you feel safer. So you learned if I can figure out why they're upset, maybe I can prevent an argument. If I can understand their pain, maybe I can make them feel better. If I can keep everybody happy, maybe everything will be okay. And over time that survival strategy can become part of how you approach relationships. You become the listener, the fixer, the peacekeeper, the peacemaker, the emotional translator, the person everybody comes to when they're struggling. And there's nothing inherently wrong with those roles. But they become exhausting when you believe you must perform them to deserve love, right? Here's the question I want you to consider. Are you understanding people because you genuinely want to, or because you've learned that understanding them is the safest way to keep the relationship? Those motivations can look very similar from the outside, but they feel very different on the inside. One comes from compassion, and the other one it comes from fear. And sometimes we're operating from both. So when someone is upset with you, what happens inside? Do you immediately start trying to understand your perspective? Or theirs rather? Do you apologize before you've decided whether you've done anything wrong? Do you become anxious until the relationship feels normal again? Or can you allow someone to be disappointed while you're still respecting yourself? Those are things to think about. So part two I'm going into when empathy becomes exhausting. What is empathy? Let's talk about that. Empathy is the ability to understand or share another person's emotional experience. It's important in relationships. It helps us connect to one another. It helps us respond compassionately. And it helps us recognize that people have experiences different from our own. But empathy does not mean absorbing every emotion around you. And it doesn't mean being responsible for fixing everybody's feelings. Some people become so focused on understanding others that they stop noticing their own emotional state. You listen to everybody's problems, you offer encouragement, you help them make sense of situations, you try to find solutions, and then you go home feeling completely drained. Not necessarily because anybody did something intentionally wrong, but because you've spent the entire day emotionally available to everybody except yourself. And here's something important. You can understand somebody's pain without becoming responsible for resolving it. You can listen without fixing, you can care without rescuing. You can support without sacrificing your own needs. You can say, I care about what you're going through. But I don't have the emotional capacity for this conversation right now. That's not cruelty. That's recognizing your limits. Because compassion without boundaries can eventually become exhaustion. It will become exhaustion. And exhaustion can turn into what? Resentment. We've listed learned that with my talks over and over. So which brings us to something else, which is the part three, when understanding turns into resentment. Have you ever noticed yourself becoming irritated when people you genuinely love? Maybe you used to enjoy helping them, you used to enjoy listening, you used to feel good about being a part of them, supportive, but now every phone call feels like another responsibility, every message feels like another problem, every request feels like one more thing somebody needs from you. And then you start thinking. Does anybody ever wonder how I'm doing? Does anybody ever ask whether I have the energy for this? Does anybody ever consider that I might be struggling too? That's where resentment can begin. Resentment often develops when needs, expectations, and boundaries remain unaddressed. You keep saying yes when you want to say no. You keep giving when you're exhausted. You keep listening when you need someone to listen to you. And eventually your frustration grows. But here's something we need to examine. Have you communicated your needs? Have you told people when you're overwhelmed? Have you asked for support? Or have you spent years hoping they'll just notice? Because sometimes people genuinely don't realize how much you're carrying, how much we're carrying. Other times they know and continue to expect it anyway. Those situations require different responses, but both invite us to become more honest about our needs. So then we get into part four of this, and that's the they should know syndrome. I've got a whole podcast podcast on this, right? And let me tell you, we've talked about this before. It is the famous. They should know. Well, they should know I'm tired. They should know I'm hurt. They should know I need help. They should know I want them to check on me. They should know I can't keep doing everything. And I understand why we feel that way, especially when we're the person who notices everything. We notice when somebody gets quiet. We notice when their mood changes. We notice when they're overwhelmed. We notice when they need reassurance. So we think, if I could notice all about all of that about them, why can't they notice it about me? That's a painful question. Because here's the reality: people don't always have the same emotional awareness. They frankly just don't. They don't always notice the same things. And they can't always know what we need unless we communicate it. Now that doesn't excuse repeated repeated disregard for us. If you've clearly expressed your needs and someone consistently dismisses them. That's important information. But we have to distinguish between someone not knowing and someone not caring. Those are not automatically the same thing. So instead of saying they should know, try saying, Have I clearly communicated what I need? And after I communicated it, how did they respond? That's where you or we can begin understanding the relationship more accurately. So we get into part five where why does everybody get grace except you? Here's the part that hurts you give somebody grace when they make a mistake. You consider what they're going through, you recognize that nobody's perfect, but when we or you make a mistake, suddenly the standard changes, right? You're judged, you're criticized, you're misunderstood, or somebody Brings up something you said three years ago. And you're sitting there thinking, wait a minute, I've spent years understanding you. Why is it so difficult for you to understand me? Sometimes this happens because relationships develop unspoken roles. One person becomes the emotionally responsible one, the other one becomes accustomed to receiving that support. And over time, the relationship may become unbalanced. It will become unbalanced. Not always intentionally, though. The understanding person is expected to remain calm, to remain patient, to remain forgiving. And when they finally express frustration, it surprises everybody, right? People say, What's gotten into you? What's gotten into her? What's wrong with her? What's I you're you're acting different. She's acting different. You're being sensitive, you're overreacting, and perhaps you are acting differently. Maybe you're finally expressing something you've suppressed for years. It doesn't automatically mean every reaction is healthy. We still have responsibility for how we communicate, right? But it does mean your feelings deserve consideration too. You should not have to become emotionally exhausted before somebody recognizes that you have needs. So part six is when people believe the lie without asking you. Now let's talk about something that can be especially painful, especially in breakups, friendships in whatever, being misunderstood. Having someone tell a story about you that isn't accurate, having your words taken out of context, having your intentions misrepresented. Or discovering that someone you cared about believed a rumor without ever asking you what happened. That can hurt deeply, right? Especially when you've defended the same person, supported them, given them the benefit of the doubt. And now, when it's your turn to be understood, they don't extend the same courtesy. You start thinking, how did they believe that about me? Don't they know my heart? Don't they know how my character is? Why wouldn't they just ask me? And sometimes the pain isn't only about the rumor. It's about what their willingness to believe. Well, yeah, their willingness to believe it seems to say about the relationship. You thought there was trust. You thought there was a mutual respect. You thought they knew. You well enough to at least have a conversation. But here's something I want you to remember. You cannot control every story told about you. You cannot control what everybody believes. And you cannot force people to seek your perspective. You cannot correct misinformation when appropriate. Well, you can. You can correct it. What the Hades does say cannot for. Cannot. Anyway, you can, you can correct that. You can communicate with people who are willing to listen. You can acknowledge your own mistakes where they exist, but you don't have to spend your life defending yourself in every room you're not standing in. Because you know what? If you're trying to manage everybody's opinion of you, you're going to need a full-time staff, a public relations department, and probably a personal assistant. And even then somebody's still going to have something to say. Nasty about you, right? So what is a bit of a reflection on this? Are you trying to clarify the truth with someone who genuinely wants to understand? Or are you repeatedly defending yourself to someone who has already decided what they believe? Remember that question. So part seven is the pain of being misunderstood by people you defend or defended. There's something particularly painful about being hurt by somebody you've protected. Maybe you've defended their character. Maybe you've stood up for them. Maybe you've given them grace when others criticize them. Maybe you've reminded people that there's always more than one side to a story. And then you discover they didn't do the same for you. That hurts. That hurts deep. Because if it feels like a betrayal of the values you believed you shared, well, it hurts. But here's an important distinction to remember someone failing to reciprocate your loyalty doesn't automatically mean that your loyalty was foolish. Your compassion wasn't meaningless. Your kindness wasn't a mistake, but the experience may reveal that the relationship isn't as reciprocal as you believed. And that's information you can use. You don't have to become bitter. You don't have to retaliate. You don't have to publicly embarrass them. But you can adjust your expectations. You can become more selective about what you share. And you can reconsider how much emotional energy you invest in them. And you can stop expecting a level of loyalty from someone who hasn't demonstrated it. That's not revenge, that's learning. So part eight, we go into understanding someone. does not excuse their behavior. just because you understand them doesn't excuse their behavior. This may be one of the most important things we discussed today. Understanding why somebody behaves a certain way does not automatically make their behavior acceptable. You can understand what someone experienced through childhood trauma and still hold them accountable for hurting you. You can understand that someone struggles with insecurity and still expect honesty. You can understand that someone fears abandonment. if they do, if they if they fear abandonment. sorry you guys, my computer seems to be bouncing around. I'm losing my internet signal. Okay, hold on. Pause everybody. Pause, pause, pause. Where's it at? Unstable connection. stable connection. Sorry, you guys. Okay, it went away. So I don't remember where I was, but you can understand someone's fears of abandonment and still maintain your own boundaries, right? Right? So you can understand it and maintain your own boundaries. You can understand that someone has difficulty with their regulating their emotions and still refuse to participate in every conversation involving insults or intimidation. There's a lot of that on the TikTok app because an explanation is not the same as an excuse, right? Sometimes our empathy becomes so focused on the reason behind someone's behavior that we minimize the impact on us. I do it. I'm a professional at that. So we say, well, they had a hard childhood. they're they're under stress. They don't know any better. They've been hurt before. And maybe those things are true. But what about The person receiving the behavior? What about their feelings? Their safety, their needs, their boundaries? We could recognize the full humanity of both people. We don't have to choose between understanding the person who caused harm and acknowledging the person who experienced it. Both matter, right? So part nine is the emotional labor nobody sees. Let's talk about that. What is the emotional labor in relationships? Invisible work of remembering, the anticipating, the planning, the checking in, the managing tension, starting the difficult conversations, repairing disagreements, making sure everybody feels included, remembering birthdays, noticing the emotional changes, keeping the communication going. And sometimes being the one who reaches out after every conflict. When one person carries most of that work, well, they begin to feel alone, even while surrounded by people. Because being responsible for connection isn't the same as feeling connected. You might have a spouse, friends, family, co-workers, a whole phone full of contacts, right? And still feel like nobody really sees you. Because people know what you do for them. But do they know who you are when you're not doing anything for anybody? Do they know what your worries are? What hurts you? What makes you feel appreciated? What makes you feel safe? What you're afraid to say out loud. And here's another question. Do you give people opportunities to know those things? Because emotional intimacy requires more than being useful. It requires being known. Right? So part 10 is when you become everybody's safe place. Some people have a gift for making others feel comfortable. I do. People open up to them, to us. They share secrets. They talk about difficult experiences. They ask for advice. They feel understood. And that's a beautiful thing, right? But be in everybody's safe place can become lonely when you don't have a safe place of your own. Where do you go? Who listens when you're overwhelmed? Who allows you to be imperfect? Who doesn't immediately need you to solve something? Who can sit with you with your emotions without trying to redirect the conversation back to themselves? And who asked, how are you really doing? And waits for the answer. Because even the strong friend needs support. Even the counselor needs support. Even the caregiver needs support. Even the peacemakers needs support. Even the person who understands everybody deserves to feel understood. You don't become less compassionate by acknowledging that. You become more honest about being human. Part 11. Why we struggle to ask for support. Why do I do that? Let's turn the mirror around. Right? Let's turn that mirror around. Because sometimes we're frustrated that nobody supports us, but we struggle to ask for support. Why? Maybe we don't want to be a burden. Maybe we're afraid of rejection. Maybe we've learned that our needs are inconvenient. Maybe we've Been disappointed before. Maybe we feel safer being the helper than the person who needs help. And sometimes asking for support makes us feel vulnerable. Because when you're the strong one, people may not know how to respond when you're struggling. But that doesn't mean you should never ask. It means you may need to practice. You can say something like, I'm having a difficult day. Do you have time to listen? Or I don't need advice right now, I just need somebody to hear me. Or I'm feeling overwhelmed and could use some help. Or even I know I know I'm usually the one checking on everybody, but I could really use a check in myself. Those statements are honest, they're specific, and they give people an opportunity to show up. Not everyone will, and that can be disappointing. But some people may surprise you. So part 12 is when your kindness becomes an expectation, right? Have you ever noticed that when you do something consistently, people can begin to treat? Well, treating it as normal. You help once, they're grateful. You help again, they're appreciative. You keep helping, and eventually it's expected. Then the first time you say no, they're upset. Suddenly you're selfish. Suddenly you've changed. Suddenly you're not the same person. But here's the question: Were they appreciating your kindness? Or were they becoming dependent on your availability? Now, not every disappointed reaction means someone is taking advantage of you. People can be surprised when established routines change. But repeated entitlement is something worth noticing, especially when the relationship becomes conditional on what you can provide. A healthy relationship should allow you to have limits without making your value disappear. You should be able to say, I can't today, without feeling like you've committed some unforgivable offense. So, what is the difference between being needed and being valued? This one can be uncomfortable because some of us confuse being needed with being loved. When people depend on us, we feel important. When they call us, we feel wanted. When they ask for advice, we feel useful. When they need help, we feel connected. But but being needed isn't always the same as being valued, right? Someone may appreciate what you do without being deeply invested in who you are. That distinction matters. So ask yourself, do people reach out when they don't need anything? Do they celebrate your accomplishments? Do they remember what matters to you? Do they respect your time? Do they show concern when you're struggling? Do they make room for your feelings? Because relationships should include more than transactions. You deserve connection that isn't based entirely on what you can provide. So when you're always being the bigger person, here we go with that bigger person thing. We've talked about this one before because apparently some of us have been assigned this role permanently. So you're supposed to apologize first, you're supposed to reach out first, forgive first, understand first, let it go first. And when you finally say, I'm tired of always being the bigger person, somebody is gonna respond with well. You know how they are. Yes, I I do know how they are. But when are they going to learn how I am? W when are they going to recognize that I have feelings? When are they going to take responsibility? Are they going to participate in repairing the relationship? Being mature doesn't mean accepting responsibility for everybody's behavior. Sometimes maturity means having the uncomfortable conversation. Sometimes it means apologizing. Sometimes it means actually listening. And sometimes it means setting that boundary you're afraid to set. And sometimes it just means recognizing that you cannot repair a relationship alone. It takes two. Being the bigger person should never mean becoming the only one accountable. You can't be the only accountable person in it. So when you stop explaining yourself, have you ever reached that point where you just get tired of explaining? Tired of clarifying your intentions, tired of defending your feelings, tired of repeating the same concerns, tired of saying that's not what I meant? That's not what happened, that's not how I feel. Sometimes that exhaustion comes from repeated misunderstandings. Sometimes it comes from conversations where neither person feels heard. And sometimes it just comes from a relationship where one person consistently dismisses the other's perspective. The important thing is to recognize what kind of situation, situationship, y'all know how I like to say it, that you're in. Because communication problems can sometimes improve with better skills. But communication requires willingness. You cannot force someone to listen. You cannot make somebody curious about your perspective. And you cannot have a productive conversation with someone who is only interested in winning. So sometimes the healthiest response is I've explained my perspective. I'm willing to continue when you can listen. But when we both can listen respectfully, and then you stop participating in that circular argument, right? Not because you don't care, but because repeating yourself endlessly isn't the same as being understood. Then we get into the fear of becoming hard-hearted. I question myself on this once in a while. There's something about being compassionate people and this being something we often worry about. If I stop giving everybody chances, will I become cold? If I stop understanding everything, will I become judgmental? If I set boundaries, will I lose my kindness? If I stop reaching out. Will I become selfish? But there's a difference between becoming hardened and becoming discerning. A hardened heart may refuse to consider anyone else's perspective. Discernment considers perspectives while still recognizing patterns and limits. You can remain kind without being endlessly available. You can remain forgiving without restoring every relationship. You can remain understanding without excusing every behavior. You can remain hopeful without ignoring evidence. And you can maintain a soft heart without leaving it unprotected. That's the balance we're looking for. So when your faith teaches grace, but you forget your own needs, what happens then? Let's bring our faith into this for a second. Because for those of us who have values in being Christian or having a relationship with God, Christian teachings. Grace and forgiveness matter deeply, right? We're encouraged to love, to forgive, to show compassion, to be patient, to avoid unnecessary conflict. But sometimes we interpret those teachings in ways that leave no room for our humanity. We think being a good Christian means always saying yes, always giving another chance, always being available, always overlooking hurt. But scripture also speaks about wisdom, truth, responsibility. And the importance of the heart. Galatians 6 2 encourages us to wear one another's burdens. Notice that phrase, one another. It describes mutual care, right? And Galatians 6 5 also speaks about carrying one's own load. Those passages can help us reflect on the balance between supporting others and accepting personal responsibility. We can carry burdens without assuming responsibility for every Decision another person makes. So in Romans 12:18 reminds us to pursue peace as far as it depends on us. Not as far as we can control everybody, not as far as we can force reconciliation, as far as it depends on us, right? That's important because faith should encourage us to act with integrity, not to abandon ourselves. So why does being misunderstood hurt so much? Let's let's look at the emotional side. Being misunderstood, it it can threaten our sense of belonging. Most people want to feel known, accepted, respected, and and fairly represented. So when someone misinterprets our intentions, it can feel like they're rejecting who we are, especially if we have a history of rejection or abandonment. We may feel an intense need to correct the misunderstanding immediately. We replay conversations, we draft messages, we imagine what we should have said. We try to figure out how to make the person see us differently. But here's something important. Being misunderstood is painful. It isn't always dangerous. And not every misunderstanding requires an immediate response. Sometimes we can clarify, sometimes we can wait. Sometimes we can accept that people have different interpretations. And sometimes we need to recognize that a relationship lacks the trust necessary for healthy communication. The goal isn't to stop caring what anybody thinks. The goal is to stop allowing every misunderstanding to determine your sense of worth. So when you're always the one who apologizes, we've got to talk about the apologies, right? Because I do it a lot. Most of the people I know does. Because some people apologize constantly. They apologize for having needs, for asking questions, for expressing disappointment, for taking up space, for saying no, for crying, for being overwhelmed. And sometimes they apologize simply. To end the tension in the space that they're in, even when they aren't sure they've done anything wrong. That can become a pattern. You start believing that restoring peace is more important than understanding what happened. But an apology should reflect responsibility, not simply anxiety. It's okay to apologize when you've caused harm. It's okay to acknowledge your part in a misunderstanding. But you don't have to accept responsibility for everything just to make somebody stop being upset. Sometimes a healthier statement is: I regret how this conversation went. I'd like us both to understand what happened. That allows accountability for both, right? Without assigning all of the blame to yourself. We've gotten all the way to part 20. So when people expect your understanding, but don't offer theirs. What do we do with that, right? Let's get right to the center of this episode. What happens when understanding is only traveling in one direction? You listen to their side, you consider their feelings, you minimize yours, you forgive their mistakes, they hold yours against you, you make room for their difficult days, they criticize you for having one. You try to understand their intentions. They assume the worst about yours. And over time, that imbalance can damage trust, right? Because emotional safety depends partly on knowing that your perspective matters. Not that everybody will agree with you. Not that you'll never be challenged. Not that your feelings automatically determine the facts. But that you can be heard respectfully. You deserve relationships where understanding is mutual. We both, well, where both people can make mistakes, where both people can apologize, where both people can express needs, where both people can grow. Because one-sided grace eventually becomes exhausting. So when you finally say enough, sometimes the most important moment In a relationship isn't a dramatic argument. It's a quiet realization. You wake up one morning and recognize I can't keep doing this the same way. Maybe you're tired of initiating every conversation. Maybe you're tired of being the only one apologizing. Maybe you're tired, you're tired of defending your intentions. Maybe you're tired of giving people chances without seeming meaningful. Seeing rather seeing meaningful changes without it seeming meaningful. However, I should say that you're tired of giving them chances without it being meaningful, right? No actual meaningful change. And you decide something needs to be different. That doesn't automatically mean ending the relationship. Sometimes it just means having an honest conversation. Sometimes it means reducing how much you take on. Sometimes it means asking for reciprocity. Sometimes it means setting limits. And also sometimes it can mean accepting that relationship cannot continue in its current form. But here's what matters your decision should come from clarity rather than from revenge. Not I'm going to make them feel what I felt, but I'm going to stop participating in something that repeatedly harms my well being. That's a different kind of strength. So the guilt that follows a boundary. You're setting the boundary, right? So now here's what happens often. You finally set the boundary. You say, I can't keep being available for every crisis. Or I need you to hear my side too. Or even I'm not comfortable continuing this conversation when I'm being insulted. And immediately the guilt arrives. You start questioning yourself. Was I too harsh? Was I selfish? Did I hurt their feelings? Maybe I should apologize. Should I explain it again a different way? And sometimes you end up removing the boundary before anybody has even responded. Because the discomfort for you feels unbearable. But discomfort doesn't automatically mean your decision was wrong. Sometimes it means you're changing a familiar pattern. So if you've spent years keeping everybody comfortable, prioritizing your needs and your own needs really may feel unfamiliar. You can acknowledge that discomfort without immediate surrendering the boundary, without immediately surrendering the boundary. Give yourself time. Evaluate the situation. Consider whether your boundary is fair and appropriate. And remember that someone else's disappointment. Isn't automatically evidence that you've done something wrong. So how do you ask them for reciprocity then? Well, let's try to make this practical. If you're feeling emotionally supported, great. If you're feeling emotionally unsupported, try communicating that clearly. You might say something like, I care about you and I want to be supportive, but lately I've been feeling our conversations focus mostly on what you're going through. And I'd appreciate having space to share what's happening with me too. Or you can say it I know we see the situation differently. I'm willing to hear your perspective, but I need you to be willing to hear mine. Another way is when you hear something about me, I'd appreciate you coming directly to me before assuming it's true. Or I understand that you're upset. I also need my feelings to be acknowledged. Or I want us to have a relationship where we both feel heard, not one where one person is always expected to understand. Notice that none of those statements require attacking the other person. They express a need, they invite communication, and they create an opportunity for change. then pay attention to the response. Not only what the person promises, but what happens over time. So when someone responds well, let's make room for healthy relationships. Because not everybody who has overlooked your needs is intentionally selfish. Sometimes people become accustomed to a pattern without realizing it's unbalanced. You may have always appeared strong, always seemed capable, always offered help, and they may not realize you need support too. So when you communicate that need, some people will respond with care. They'll listen, they'll ask questions, they'll acknowledge what they missed, they'll make an effort to change. And that's important to recognize, right? We don't want to become so focused on disappointment that we overlook genuine repair. Healthy relationships involve learning. Sometimes we have to teach each other how to love and support us more effectively. And when someone responds with consistent effort, That's worth appreciating. So when someone doesn't respond well, what do we do with that? Sometimes you communicate clearly, right? Nothing changes. You explain your needs, they dismiss them. You ask for reciprocity, they become defensive. You set a boundary, they pressure you to remove it. You describe how something hurts you, and they turn the conversation into an argument about your character. And eventually you have to ask. Is this person willing to participate in a healthy relationship? Because you cannot create mutual understanding alone. You can communicate respectfully, you can listen, and you can acknowledge their mistakes, and you can offer opportunities for repair, but you cannot make someone care about your perspective. And if the pattern continues, you may need to adjust the relationship accordingly. That isn't necessarily punishment. It may be self protection. So, what do we do when we stop making excuses for people who won't take responsibility? I want to be careful here. I have to be. Because understanding someone's circumstances can be compassionate, but repeatedly making excuses for their behavior can prevent us from seeing the pattern clearly. So you might say they're just stressed, insecure, they're going through a hard time. They didn't mean it. And sometimes that is true. But let's ask another question. What responsibility are they taking? Are they acknowledging the impact? Are they working on their behavior? Are they willing to listen? Are they making changes? Because difficult circumstances can help explain behavior. They don't automatically remove responsibility for it. And the same standard applies to us. Our pain deserves compassion, but it doesn't give us an unlimited permission to hurt others. Healthy relationships require both understanding and accountability. So this connects to another part of the conversation we've had on the back porch before. Did you forgive them? Or did you just let them back in? Because sometimes we extend grace and immediately return to the same pattern. We forgive, we reconnect, we resume our role, and we become the understanding one again. And nothing changes. Yada all rolls back to the same thing. The same expectations remain, the same imbalance remains, the same hurt returns. And then we wonder why forgiveness didn't fix the relationship. Because forgiveness and relationship repair are different processes. You can forgive someone and still need new boundaries. You can forgive someone and still require accountability. You can forgive someone and still recognize that the relationship needs to change. Grace doesn't require repeating very old patterns. Sometimes grace is accompanied by, I don't know. a very clear boundary. Sometimes they don't like that. So when you feel like nobody sees you, I want to speak to the person who feels invisible, the one who smiles through difficult days, the one who checks on everybody, the one who remembers birthdays, sends encouraging messages, the one who notices when somebody gets quiet, and one who tries to make sure nobody feels left out, and then goes home wondering. Whether anybody would notice if she stopped reaching out. That feeling can be deeply lonely. But I want you to know something. Your needs matter even when you don't express them perfectly. Your emotions matter even when somebody doesn't understand them. Your value exists beyond what you do for your other people. And your life deserves relationships that include care for you too. Now that doesn't mean every person in your life will meet every emotional need. No single relationship can provide everything. But it does mean you can intentionally build a support system where care isn't always one-sided. You can deserve to be known, not just needed. So we're into 29 already. So learning to receive. What is the here's something we don't discuss enough. Some of us are excellent at giving, but terrible at receiving. Somebody offers help and we say, no, I'm fine. Somebody asks how we're doing, and we say, I'm good. Somebody offers to listen and we immediately change the subject. Somebody tries to care for us and we feel very uncomfortable. Because receiving requires vulnerability, right? It means allowing someone to see. That we don't have everything under control. And for people who have spent years being strong, that can be unfamiliar. But mutual relationships require the ability to both give and receive. So practice. When somebody offers genuine support, consider accepting it. When somebody asks how you're doing, consider giving an honest answer. And when somebody wants to help, allow them to participate. You don't have to carry everything alone to prove you're capable. The difference between a soft heart and no boundaries, what is that? I think we need to talk about keeping a soft heart. I know a lot of people who are not soft hearted. Because I know some of you are afraid that setting boundaries will change who you are. You don't want to become bitter. You don't want to stop believing in people. You don't want to become suspicious. You don't want to lose your compassion, and you don't have to. You can remain the person who believes in kindness, who values forgiveness. Who tries to understand, who sees the good in people, but you can also become someone who recognizes patterns, someone who communicates needs, someone who says no, someone who doesn't automatically take responsibility for everybody's emotions. Someone who understands that love requires reciprocity. You don't have to become hard. You can become wise. And, well, let's face it, there's a difference. A soft heart with healthy boundaries isn't weakness. That is emotional maturity. So when you stop chasing people to understand you, sometimes we spend enormous amounts of energy. And I'm talking to myself, trying to convince people that we're good. That our intentions were pure, that we weren't trying to hurt anybody, that the story they heard wasn't accurate. And sometimes clarification is appropriate. But there comes a point where we have to recognize whether the other person is willing to listen. You can tell the truth, you can provide context, and you can acknowledge your mistakes. You can answer sincere questions, but you cannot force someone to see you fairly, and constantly chasing their approval can become emotionally exhausting. Sometimes peace begins when you recognize I have communicated honestly, I have taken responsibility for my part, and I've offered clarification, and I cannot control what they choose to believe. That's not indifference. That's accepting the limits of your influence. There's a difference. So when your own expectations need examining, yeah, we gotta call ourselves out, right? Now because we're about growth on this porch, we have to examine ourselves too. Sometimes we expect people to show care exactly the way we do. We notice subtle changes, we remember small details, we anticipate needs, and we assume that people who love us should do the same. But people have different strengths, different communication styles, different emotional skills, different ways of expressing care. Someone may genuinely love you and still miss a cue. Someone may care deeply and still need you to communicate your needs directly. So we have to ask, am I expecting mutual care? Or am I expecting someone to read my mind? Am I communicating clearly or am I allowing people to show love differently? Am I recognizing the support they do offer? Because reciprocity doesn't always mean identical behavior. It means both people are invested in caring for each other. And that can take different forms. So we get into the friendship part of this. I want to do a little exercise, back porch style. Think about your closest relationships. Not to judge everybody, not to make a list of people to cut off, but to become more aware. Ask yourself, who checks on me without needing something? Who listens when I'm struggling? Who respects my boundaries? Who can disagree with me without attacking my character? Who celebrates my accomplishments? Who allows me to be imperfect? Who takes responsibility when they've hurt me? Who makes me feel emotionally safe? And then ask, am I offering those same qualities in return? Because healthy relationships involve mutual care. Sometimes the exercise Reveals relationships worth investing in more deeply. Sometimes it reveals conversations that need to happen. And sometimes it reveals that a relationship may need different boundaries. The goal is what? Clarity, not punishment, clarity. So when being understanding becomes your whole identity, here's something worth considering. What happens when being the understanding one becomes your identity? What happens? You begin believing what? I'm the patient one, I'm the forgiving one, I'm the compassionate one, I'm the one who doesn't judge, I'm the one who sees everybody's side of the story. And those qualities can be meaningful, but what happens when you need to be angry? What happens when you need space? What happens when you are disappointed? What happens when you don't understand somebody's behavior? What happens when you simply don't have the energy? Or when you don't allow yourself to be human? Do you feel like you've failed your identity? Because somebody can be endlessly patient. Nobody understands everything. Nobody has unlimited emotional capacity. And you shouldn't have to maintain an image of perfect compassion to feel worthy. You can be a caring person who has difficult days. You can be emotionally aware and still react imperfectly. You can be forgiving and still need time. You can be compassionate and still say, I don't have the capacity for this right now. That's not hypocrisy. That's humanity. Give yourself the room to be human. So I want to go back to the faith part of this. I want to connect to my faith conversation, I guess. So I've asked before, does Jesus, does the Jesus that we talk about on Sunday change the way we live on Monday? I'm gonna do a whole podcast on that. I think the question that applies here is. Because it's easy to talk about grace, it's harder to actually practice mutual grace. It's easy to talk about or ask for forgiveness. It's harder to take accountability. It's easy to expect compassion, but it's harder to extend it when we're disappointed. And it's easy to talk about loving people. It's harder to listen when their perspective challenges our own. So maybe the question isn't only. Why doesn't anybody understand me? Maybe we also need to ask, am I creating relationships where understanding goes both ways? Am I practicing what I expect? Am I communicating honestly? Am I listening with humility? Am I setting boundaries with integrity? Am I extending grace without abandoning truth? Because faith isn't only about how we treat people when things are easy. It's about how we respond when relationships become uncomfortable. Remember that. A letter to the person who understands everybody. I need you guys to listen to this because I have several of you that understand everybody. We are the peacekeepers, the people pleasers. So I want to speak directly to that somebody right now. So dear one who understands everybody, I know you're tired. I know you try to see the good in people. I know you want to believe that most people have good intentions. I know you try to give grace. I know you don't want to become bitter. I know it hurts when somebody believes something untrue about you, especially when you've spent years defending other people. I know you sometimes wonder why your heart seems to make room for everybody else's pain while your own feels overlooked. But I want you to remember something. You don't have to stop being compassionate. You don't have to stop believing in people. You don't have to become cold. But you do have to remember that you're a person too. You have feelings, you have limits, you have needs, difficult days. You're gonna make mistakes. You deserve understanding. And you deserve a relationship where your humanity is recognized. You can be kind without explaining away every hurtful behavior. You can forgive without immediately returning or restoring trust. You can love without rescuing. Listen without caring. Give grace without abandoning yourself. And you can stop trying to. to prove your goodness to people who aren't willing to know you. You don't have to become less loving. You simply need to become more intentional about where your love and energy goes. So I I want to do another little practice, another challenge, if you if you may, if you will, whatever you wanna call it. I want to give you something practical for the week. So day one, notice the pattern. Pay attention to how often your person listening, fixing, explaining, or smoothing things over, how often you're the one doing that. Day two, identify your needs. Ask yourself what kind of emotional support you've been missing. Day three, communicate one need. Choose someone you trust and clearly express something you need from the relationship. Day four. Practice one boundary. Say no to something you genuinely don't have the capacity for. And day five, allow someone to support you. If someone offers sincere help for care or practice, Just practice receiving it, is what I'm trying to say. My brain is leaving me, y'all. Day six, I want to you examine reciprocity. Consider, consider whether your closest relationships include mutual respect, accountability, and just genuine care. In day seven, I want you to reflect. Ask yourself what would my relationship look like if I stopped believing I had to understand everybody. At the expense of understanding myself. So that's the challenge. Try to do it. Well, what can you control? Because some of us exhaust ourselves trying to control how other people see us. We want them to understand. We want them to believe us. We want them to appreciate us, to recognize our intentions. We want them to reciprocate, right? And those desires are. understandable. But we can't force those outcomes as much as we may want to. What we can control though, we can control how honestly we communicate. We can control whether we listen respectfully. We can control how we respond to the conflict. We can control whether we take responsibility for our mistakes. Boundaries we establish emotional energy that we invest. And we can choose which relationship we continue nurturing. We cannot make somebody value us. We cannot make somebody value us. But we can stop measuring our value by their response. Remember that. We can not make somebody value us, but we can stop measuring our value by their response. So imagine what it would feel like to stop constantly proving that you're a good person, to stop explaining every intention, to stop defending every misunderstood moment, to stop trying to convince people that you care, to stop trying to take responsibility for every uncomfortable emotion, and instead maybe live according to your values. Tell the truth. Be accountable, show compassion, set boundaries, make mistakes, apologize when appropriate, and allow people to form their own opinions. Some will understand you, some won't. Some will appreciate your heart, some won't. Some relationships will grow, others may change, but your worth doesn't have to rise and fall with every person's interpretation of you. There's freedom in that. Not because you stop caring. But because you stop believing that being understood by everybody is a requirement for peace. So here's the question I want to leave you with. Are you tired of being the one who understands everybody? Or are you tired of feeling like nobody understands you? Because those aren't exactly the same thing. Maybe you still love understanding people. Maybe compassion is one of your greatest strengths. Maybe listening brings you joy. Maybe helping others gives your life meaning. Maybe you don't actually want to stop doing those things. Maybe you just want someone to return the kindness. Maybe you want somebody to ask how you're doing. Maybe you want somebody to listen without interpreting. Maybe you want somebody to give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you want somebody to say, hey, I know you've been a you have a good heart. You've been hurting. And you help me understand what happened to you. Maybe you want somebody to recognize that. Being strong doesn't mean being unaffected. And maybe you want to stop feeling guilty for needing the same compassion you've given everybody else. That's not asking too much. That's asking for mutual care. And that's a healthy thing to want. You deserve some of the grace that you give away. So before I let you go, I want you to remember something. You don't have to stop seeing the good in people, believing that they can change, forgiving or extending grace. But maybe it's time to start giving yourself the same understanding. Because you get tired too. You get hurt, overwhelmed, rejected, misunderstood too. And you deserve compassion simply because you're human. Remember, you can understand someone's behavior without accepting it. You can forgive without trusting immediately. You can love without chasing and set boundaries without becoming bitter. The goal isn't to become less compassionate. is to have a relationship where compassion goes both ways and form a place of faith, remembering that God calls us to love and forgive. And that doesn't mean abandoning ourselves or ignoring accountability. So ask yourself am I giving myself the same grace I'm giving everybody else? Because maybe that's not where healing begins. And if you've been everybody's therapist, crisis, hotline, emotional support person, an unpaid customer service representative, It's okay to put the phone on do not disturb. The understanding department is allowed to close for lunch, and the manager deserves a vacation. Because Lord knows she's earned one. But seriously, you can be the person who understands everybody without accepting a life where nobody makes an effort to understand you. I am Barbara McCormick. This is Back Porch Confessions. If today's episode spoke to your heart, please share it, follow the podcast, and leave a review. And here's your back porch question. When was the last time somebody gave you the grace you so freely gave everybody else? Remember, your feelings matter, your needs matter, and your peace matters. I'll see you next time, right here on the back porch. Thank you. Love you all. Next time. Gravesb41: That's a wrap on this episode of Back Porch Confessions. Where the tea is hot, the stories are real, and we never apologize for keeping it honest. Produced and edited by the magic makers over at Zay Media. Until next time, keep your porch talk spicy and your secrets safe, mostly. Back Porch Confessions: If dry mouth has you constantly reaching for water, listen up because I found something you need to know about, and that is the Rayo Oral Pouch Solutions. 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