I am usually the person who remembers the appointments and the details of what needs to be done at home. I notice when we are almost out of toothpaste or garbage bags. None of these things is difficult on its own. It is the accumulation of them and the fact that they continue to live somewhere in my mind until I know they have been handled. Even when I make a list for someone else, I may still check afterward to make sure it was done.
I do not say this as a complaint. I am good at managing things, and I like being good at it. Competence has served me well. It has helped me build a business, care for my family, and get through times when there was no choice but to keep moving. I would not want to give it up.
I’m not sure when I became this person. My parents were Cuban immigrants, and I started assimilating into American culture as a teenager while they did not, at least not in the same way. I understood things about the culture around me that they had not needed to understand. There was no particular moment when I decided to become independent. I gradually became someone who could figure things out.
Many women know some version of this role. Sociologist Allison Daminger uses the term “cognitive labor” to describe the work involved in anticipating needs, considering the options, making decisions, and monitoring what happens afterward. Her research found that the anticipating and monitoring portions were especially likely to fall to women. That makes sense to me. Completing a task is different from being the person who first notices that it needs to be done and continues thinking about it until it is finished.
This way of operating followed me into my work. When I started Simply Being, nearly everything about the practice was in my head because it had to be. I knew what needed attention, what was coming next, and what could not be forgotten. There were no existing systems and no one else who had the full picture. If I did not handle something myself, I had to make sure someone else did.
The practice is different now. Other people understand parts of it as well as, and sometimes better than, I do. They have taken things off my plate, which is what I wanted. Still, passing along a task is easier than giving up the responsibility for remembering it. I can ask someone to take care of something and then find myself checking on it anyway. At that point, I have technically delegated the task, but have not released much of the mental work.
I have had to look at why that is. Sometimes I have a good reason to follow up. Other times it is simply a habit that developed when there was no one else to do it. It can also be uncomfortable to depend on another person when I know I am capable of doing something myself.
The part that feels more personal is my reluctance to ask too much of anyone. My concern is usually not that the other person is incapable. I tend to decide that I should be able to manage it, or that the request is not important enough to bother someone else. I can talk myself out of asking before that person has had a chance to tell me whether it is too much.
I see versions of this in my clinical work with women. A client may describe herself as independent with genuine pride while also feeling alone in her relationships. She may want more support but have difficulty naming what she needs. Sometimes there is perfectionism or a need for control involved. Sometimes self-reliance developed because depending on other people had not worked out very well in the past.
Being a therapist has complicated my understanding of competence in a useful way. I bring education, training, and years of experience into the room, but I am not the expert on my clients. They are. Earlier in my career, I felt more pressure to know where the work should go. Now I am more comfortable allowing the process to unfold without trying to manage every part of it. That has not required less skill. It has required a different use of it.
At home, allowing someone to help can be far less complicated. My husband has taken responsibility for some of my mother’s cardiology appointments. This means there are dates, calls, and follow-up details that do not belong only to me. I am still involved in her care, but I am not responsible for every part of it. Letting him do that gives him a way to care for my mother and also to care for me.
I think competence becomes armor somewhere in this territory. It happens when capability keeps a person from asking for help, accepting it or, acknowledging that she would like someone else to carry something for a while. What began as a useful form of independence can become a way to avoid feeling like a burden. Others may assume she is fine, even as she wishes someone would notice how much she is managing.
I still believe competence is a superpower. The issue is not being capable. It is whether being capable has become the only position that feels comfortable. I want to be able to trust my competence without automatically reaching for it every time I have a need.
For clients who recognize themselves in this pattern, these questions may be worth considering:
- When did being capable become important to you?
- What has your competence allowed you to do?
- Are there situations in which it also keeps people at a distance?
- What do you imagine might happen if you asked for more help?
- Do the people close to you know what would actually take something off your plate?
- Is there something you could allow another person to carry without continuing to monitor it?