Who Takes Care of the Caregiver?

This is a question I don’t ask out loud very often…
Mostly because I don’t know who to ask…
And partly because, over the years, I’ve learned to keep my expectations modest and be grateful whenever someone shows up…

My days are carefully choreographed between work commitments, therapy schedules, follow-ups, planning, and many invisible tasks that keep life moving. Month after month, year after year, the routine continues. It has been over a decade of showing up — without breaks, without real pauses — guided only by a quiet expectation or rather a commitment to keep going…

And I do.

On the outside, things look managed. Responsibilities are met. Calendars are tracked. Appointments are attended. Work is delivered. Over time, you learn how to become efficient, dependable, and emotionally contained. You learn to hold things together because there isn’t space for them to fall apart…

But holding everything together comes at a cost…

“The worst part about being strong is that no one ever asks if you are okay!”

Life has been kind, and I am surrounded by people who care. Support exists, conversations happen, help is offered. And yet, everyone is navigating their own realities, responsibilities, pressures, and limitations. No one is wrong. This is simply how life is. Care, however genuine, can only go so far when the journey itself is deeply personal and relentless…

Even close friendships require balance. Life overlaps, roles intersect, and actions don’t always translate the way we hope. Sometimes you choose understanding over explanation. Sometimes you choose silence over conflict. Not because your feelings don’t matter, but because relationships do…

So you adjust. Again.

Over the years, you also learn that not everyone processes difficult realities in the same way. Some confront them head-on. Others step back, hoping denial will make it easier to bear. Over time, expectations soften – not out of indifference, but out of acceptance…

And slowly, almost without noticing, you begin to carry more. You keep moving forward even when you are tired. Strength becomes a habit, not a choice…

But strength doesn’t erase fatigue and it doesn’t eliminate loneliness...

There are moments when the weight feels heavier than usual. Not because there is no support, but because no one else is standing in the exact same place, holding the full picture in their hands. It’s a loneliness that comes partly from isolation and at times from a place where you too want to be taken care of…

That’s when the question returns:

• Who takes care of the caregiver?
• Who checks in when we go quiet?
• Who plans a lunch/dinner with us?
• Who lends a genuine listening ear without being judgemental?
• Who acknowledges the pain and doesn’t discard the feeling?
• Who offers a hug when we are not able to articulate what’s on our mind?
• Who notices the years without rest?
• Who brings that one laughter when we forget to smile?
  

I don’t have a definitive answer yet. Caregivers are often seen as systems that work smoothly in the background — reliable, resilient, self-sufficient. But beneath that efficiency is a person who feels deeply, hopes quietly, and occasionally struggles in silence…

But I am also learning that care doesn’t always arrive from the outside. Sometimes it has to be practiced inside.

• By acknowledging exhaustion without guilt…
• By talking to the person in the mirror…
• By letting those tears roll down…
• By not holding on to the strong avatar all the time…
• By choosing your inner circle wisely…
• By being strong enough to be vulnerable…
• By continuing to make the effort, even on days when it feels uneven or unreciprocated…
• By trying one more time…

It’s human to seek. Even the strongest caregivers need moments of being held—by understanding, by kindness, by compassion. Especially their own.

On that note, I will rest my thoughts until we meet again.

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For more such insights and real-life examples, please check out my book, When I Met The “Unexpected” – A Guide For All Parents and help make this world an inclusive place for everyone. 

Take Care
Learn, Accept, Intervene