Letters #01: Escaping 'the responsible one' trap
On labels, shedding old roles, and unknowingness as strength
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)—Walt Whitman, Song of Myself, 51
The situation
I’ve spent most of my life being the “together” one. The responsible one. The person people turn to when things fall apart. I don’t entirely resent it, and for a long time have felt proud. Like there is a sense of meaning in being able to be that person for those around me. I’ve picked up this reputation in my professional career and in my friendship groups. One of my friends called me ‘the glue’ lately, and it was meant as a compliment, but the whole thing of me being ‘that’ person… I’ve been really struggling with it lately.
There are moments when I wonder who I am underneath it all. If I’m not chasing goals, solving problems, anticipating needs… then who am I? It’s disorienting. Almost like I’ve built a life from the outside in, and now I don’t know how to live from the inside out. It feels more performative than authentic.
I guess what I’m asking is: Who am I without the roles I’ve been playing? And how do I start finding out?
Response
The roles that guide us
There are ideas from varying research strands that support the concept that the labels and roles bestowed upon us have a very real impact on our behaviours. We are, at least in part, products of our environment, and we tend to live up to the expectations we’re assigned. Zimbardo’s infamous Stanford prison experiment, for example — validity and ethical contentions aside — found that students randomly assigned to play the role of ‘prison guard’ in a role-playing experiment were quick to become hostile, aggressive and even abusive to their fellow student ‘prisoners’; going to extremes with the ‘role’ they were given. While the experiment was set for two weeks, they had to end it after just six days because it simply got out of control. Students who were given the prisoner role and had to live in cells under prison-like conditions displayed extreme stress responses (crying, depression, anxiety, etc.), and the student guards’ behaviours got increasingly worse. Zimbardo contended that the experiment demonstrated the human capacity to respond in out-of-character ways based on the situation. Extreme ethical issues aside, the study prompts reflection on how we conform to the power and authority, roles, or expectations that we’re given.
Similarly, labelling theory suggests that people tend to internalise and then act according to the labels others or broader society assign them. It’s often discussed in relation to deviant and criminal behaviour: That is, when everyone tells me I’ve got no hope and I’m just a criminal or thug, then I internalise that, and a self-fulfilling prophecy is created. We can also consider this in terms of other roles or labels people might get assigned. Casting your mind back to childhood, you can probably identify when someone assigned a label to you (that you’re really funny, or really athletic, or really good at drama, or really into science, or an excellent listener) and how that may have stuck and become part of your identity. To what extent was its enduring prominence based on someone else naming it (or even creating it?) in the first place?
And, of course, labels and expectations can come with great benefits. A commonly discussed phenomenon in line with labelling theory is the Pygmalion effect: The idea that when someone places high expectations on you (like a teacher calling you gifted or a manager picking you out as a high performer), you are more motivated and subsequently more likely to live up to it. Another layer to the concept is that the person who placed those expectations on you, after doing so, is also probably more likely to inadvertently invest more in helping you succeed. The general idea is that treating someone like they’ll succeed makes them more likely to actually succeed.
Overall, our relationships with different roles and labels are important. Self-concept - the idea we have of ourselves - evolves over the lifetime, helping to form our self-esteem and identity. And, how we interact with and are received by others will inevitably help us build some solid foundations along the way. The question then becomes, as in the situation above:
When we’ve found ourselves with a label that’s wearing thin, how do we relieve ourselves of it? How do we discover what’s hiding underneath what has become more of a mask than an affirmation of self?
Investigating our relationship with expectations
It might be helpful to start by reflecting on one’s relationship with the unwanted label. How is it currently serving or hindering us? To dive more deeply into the ‘responsible one’ or ‘fixer’ label, in particular, could bring out some rich insights. This label is associated with an expectation of always having everything together, which is necessarily unachievable. An internalisation of the label might come with a barrage of attached beliefs that also don’t serve us: That people with everything together don’t need flexibility; they don’t have emotional moments; they are always okay; their job is to make sure everything is fine. In this sense, attaching one’s self-concept too closely to this label might naturally result in regular feelings of failure (when we are inevitably imperfect), and an increasing drift away from authenticity as we attempt to keep the appearance of holding it all together.
At the same time, the ‘responsible’ one can be a deeply gratifying role to play. It can be a beautiful way to serve others; to provide value to someone in need or to a group, or help create something great. Perhaps this was an initial drawcard for taking on the role, and over time the burden of it has grown too heavy. Or, maybe it was an identity piece that connected authentically but no longer feels like where your focus should be. Or, maybe, the ‘responsible’, ‘there for everyone’ service has been misdirected to the wrong people, and a once meaningful role has become an all-consuming and draining facade. Maybe there are fears about how relationships might change if we stop being who people have come to expect.
It might also be helpful to trace back the origins of this label to figure out how it started weaving its way into our sense of self. The ‘responsible one’ trap can sometimes be a prison of our own making, slowly crafted over months or years, in part to help us avoid facing inward. This reminds me of the ‘Rescuer’ role of the Karpman drama triangle. The Karpman framework identifies unhealthy default behavioural patterns that people often fall into in times of emotional turbulence or conflict. The ‘Rescuer’ is a role based on someone so busy looking after others that they can easily justify avoiding introspection or focusing on an important issue. Perhaps we convince ourselves that we can’t engage with internal emotional unrest, challenge, grief, or stress, because too many people rely on us to help them instead. We shove our own stuff aside to hold it together for everyone else.
As one starting point, then, perhaps we evaluate the situation and critically challenge the relationship we have with this label, including what it currently provides us, the extent to which the role is being thrust upon us, and the extent to which it has perhaps become more comfortable to focus on all the little fires of others over lighting the one within.
And perhaps, as part of that we can ask ourselves: How deeply have I embedded the belief that I must show up a certain way, and why? Is what’s sitting underneath that something I can gain (I have to fix for others in order to belong, have meaning, be important), or avoid (if I don’t focus on this then I’ll be left to deal with [my own issues]; or if I don’t live up to this then [X person/group] will no longer treat me the same way)?
Thanks so much for reading my newsletter! I hope you like the new agony-aunt-ish format. I don’t know what I’m doing any more than the next person, so for me, this is more about reflecting and exploring a situation together than offering any kind of concrete answer.
Would you like to submit a situation or question? Have an aspect of the human experience you’d like to explore in more depth? Submit anonymously below.
The evolution of self and grief of shedding old roles
Like any trait that’s focused externally, the ‘responsible one’ tag can be a heavy weight to bear. It’s so easy for the lines to blur between that which one can fix and that which one cannot. And it’s not realistic to always hold everything perfectly together because the human experience defies perfection constantly. As Salvador Dali said, ‘have no fear of perfection, you’ll never reach it’. The more pristine a mask we create, the more easily it will show signs of wear. And the more we’ll leave ourselves open to things like fatigue, apathy and burnout.
For that and many other reasons, one might wish to move away from the ‘fixer’, the pattern we picked up somewhere along the way, in favour of what feels more real, healthy, and internally driven. But it’s also important to acknowledge that shedding any kind of old skin means relieving ourselves of the comfort that came with it. Familiarity is a powerful drug, and it’s natural to grieve the losses that come with any change. This role probably served us in many ways, and, at least at one point, provided a space of comfort and safety in the known. So it might mean there’s a natural movement through the grief of leaving that behind, of the people who might be left there too, of the relationships that might shift, drift, or cease to exist altogether. Giving some grace to the grief that comes with change can be helpful.
Practical steps to relieve ourselves of the burden
What could shedding this role look like? What are some actual ways to loosen the grip we have on it?
My instinct is that for something like the ‘responsible’ one, much of the change could involve choosing inaction where usually there would be action. It could be mainly about leaving more space open for others - or even just open, broadly - rather than picking up all the slack everywhere. Perhaps if there is value in some low-stakes, experimental changes where we hand over some of our usual responsibilities for a brief period, step away from something people usually expect us to engage with, or offer someone a moment of vulnerable emotion instead of pretending everything is okay. I wonder if it’s also worth talking about the situation with some critical friends or family, and sharing some of these internal tensions.
Otherwise, perhaps, some small actions and thought experiments. What would happen if you delegated the next problem to someone else? What if you took a day off? How else can you give others a chance to relieve you of this role? What are some small ways to create space between you and this expectation?
Stillness as an act of defiance and unknowingness as strength
Over time, people change. It might be that, as we shed an old role, we find ourselves sitting in a new space of self-uncertainty. We have created that, and it’s okay to sit with it. Actually, I think it can be quite powerful. Unknowingness can be grounding — rather than clutching on to familiarity, it gives us a new space to pause before jumping into the next label or expectation. It creates an opportunity for stillness and curious observation and allows a new sense of self to emerge without pressure. New interests, relational dynamics, and dimensions of who we are; what we like, what we’re good at, what we give to the world, and how we connect with it, probably won’t be able to emerge unless there’s some open space for that to happen, right?
Each of us contains multitudes, contradictions, and tensions. The self is large and whole, and while circumstances, relationships, the roles we play and how we interact with the world around us will inevitably evolve, that wholeness remains. In a world that constantly seeks neat labels and clarity from us, embracing stillness and unknowingness can be a powerful act of defiance.
"You are the sky. Everything else – it’s just the weather."
— Pema Chödrön
The other thing that can become important if we’re shedding old roles and exploring what might be new is an intentional building of soft spaces to land. That is, finding those people who take us in with loving arms, even if we don’t serve a specific function to them, seeking out those places where we can be without expectation. This might be a new thing if being responsible has typically led to us being the soft space for others to land.
So, I suppose in sum my response revolves around critically reflecting on the relationship with the label, finding small experimental acts for change and vulnerability, and sitting with unknowingness as a source of strength. I’d love to know your thoughts on this situation. Have you had a similar experience? How did you move through shedding an old role or expectation?
Thanks so much for reading my newsletter! I hope you like the new agony-aunt-ish format. I don’t know what I’m doing any more than the next person, so for me, this is more about reflecting and exploring a situation together than offering any kind of concrete answer.
Would you like to submit a situation or question? Have an aspect of the human experience you’d like to explore in more depth? Submit anonymously below.
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Any views expressed in this newsletter are my own and are not affiliated with any other institution, entity or person. Also, these newsletters contain generalised ideas, and none of this material constitutes professional or specific advice of any kind.