I Am More of a Giver Than a Receiver And I Am Hating It

There’s a certain pride in being the giver. In being the one who shows up.
The one who remembers birthdays, listens without interrupting, holds space without asking for any. You learn to be the stable one. The reliable one. The one people lean on.

And for a while, it works. People love you for it. They admire your strength, your selflessness, your generosity of spirit. You become “the rock.” The one who “has it all together.”

And maybe part of you needs that identity, too. Because it gives you purpose. Because it keeps you safe. Because it means you’re wanted.

But here’s the thing. It’s lonely as hell.

Because when you’re always the giver, people stop thinking you need anything. They stop asking how you are. They don’t offer help because they assume you’ve got it. They don’t check in because “you’re so strong, you’d tell me if something was wrong.”

But what if you don’t?
What if you can’t?
What if the very reason you’ve become such a good giver is because you never learned how to receive?

During the holidays, the pressure to give goes up. Give your time. Give your energy. Give your attention. Give perfectly wrapped versions of your love to people who may or may not notice how much it cost you.

And if you’re the kind of person who’s always been the steady one, the caretaker, the peacekeeper, the planner, the one who just handles it...You might not even realize how deep the pattern goes.

Because people rely on you. Because giving feels good until it doesn’t.
Until you’re in the kitchen crying over burnt cookies and you don’t even know why.

For a lot of us, giving became our way of staying connected. We learned early on:
If I’m helpful, I’ll be loved.
If I’m generous, I’ll be accepted.
If I take up less space, I’ll be safe.

So we minimized our needs. We made ourselves easy. Low maintenance. Convenient.

And now, as adults, we don’t know how to let someone truly give to us without squirming. A compliment? We deflect. An offer of help? “No no, I’m good!” Someone tries to love us, and we feel like a burden.

Because somewhere deep down, we equated receiving with weakness.
With guilt. With the fear of being too much. So we over-function. We give and give and give until we are hollow and wondering why no one sees our emptiness.

Let’s be honest. There’s a hit of pride that comes from being the one who “doesn’t need much.” It feels good to be the helper, the healer, the one who’s “got you.” It gives you power. Control.

But it also isolates you. Because no one really knows what’s happening behind the giving. No one knows you cry in the shower. That you’re touched-starved. That you’re the one sending “let me know if you need anything” texts, hoping someone might send one back.

You become resentful. And guilted by your own resentment. Because “they didn’t ask me to give this much,” you tell yourself. But you did. You gave so much without boundaries because you didn’t know how to ask for what you needed in return.

It feels wrong at first. Uncomfortable. You’ll want to push it away. You’ll find reasons why you don’t deserve it. You’ll pick apart the way it’s offered. You’ll feel your whole nervous system scream danger even if it’s just love.

But you’ll also feel something else. Relief. Softness. A strange, terrifying freedom. Because letting yourself be held means trusting that you’re not a burden. That you’re not too much. That you don’t have to earn rest or support or tenderness.

I am hating this imbalance. I am hating it because I’ve learned how to keep everyone else warm while I freeze in silence. I am hating it because I taught people to expect everything while needing nothing in return.

I am hating it because I’ve created relationships that only work if I’m always okay. And I’m not.

I don’t want to be the strong one all the time.
I don’t want my worth to be tied to what I give.
I want to be loved when I’m empty.
I want to be asked, "What do you need today?" and not feel guilty for answering honestly.

Now, I’m learning to receive. Badly. Awkwardly. Slowly. But I’m learning.

I’m learning to let a friend buy me coffee and not reach for my wallet. To say “I’m struggling” and not apologize for it. To let someone hug me without pulling away first. To say yes when someone says, “Let me take care of that for you.”

Because I am done starving.
I am done pretending giving is enough.
I'm done with being the one who gives without receiving.

I am more of a giver than a receiver. And I am learning bravely to change that. Because I deserve to be filled, too. And so do you.

I hope you enjoy reading this blog post. If you'd like to explore it more deeply, read more in this series of thoughts.