Breaking the Chain of 'Being Strong': The Generational Armour We Weren't Meant to Carry

Autumn has arrived. There’s a chill in the air, a whisper of winter, and a beautiful, slow-motion surrender as the trees start letting go of their leaves. This season invites us into a deeper reflection: what are we ready to let go of?

For so many of us, especially in families with deep roots of resilience and survival, one of the heaviest things we carry is the armour of "being strong."

It’s a pattern many of us know well. We learned it from our mothers, who learned it from their mothers. We were taught that strength meant independence, managing our own pain, and never burdening others. I was recently reminded of this when listening to a woman from an older generation speak with pride about her self-reliance. She saw this silence as a virtue, a testament to her strength.

And it's vital we hold this truth with deep reverence. Their armour wasn't a choice born of luxury; it was a tool forged in the fire of necessity. Survival often depended on it. We honour their sacrifice not by judging their armour, but by acknowledging the profound price they paid for it—the joys they couldn't share, the softness they couldn't afford. Our freedom to set this armour down is, perhaps, the very legacy they unknowingly fought for.

But we must also acknowledge that armour, while protective, is incredibly heavy. It’s isolating. And it doesn't just ask us to hide our burdens; it asks us to hide the giddy joys, the confusing emotions of a first crush, the very texture of a life fully lived.

Seeing the Cracks in the Chain

But what if we are witnessing a beautiful, quiet revolution? I see it in the younger generation. Where the old pattern sees a lack of resilience—seeing them as "too much" or "too demanding"—I am learning to see something else entirely: budding freedom. I see a generation that feels safe enough to be messy; that believes it is their birthright to share their feelings without the shame their parents were conditioned to feel.

How We Break the Chain: Preparing the Ground

It is our sacred work as parents to prepare the soil for our children. Crucially, this is not about raising children who feel entitled. It is the opposite. A child whose feelings are validated has no need to escalate their behaviour to prove those feelings are real. Validating the emotion ("I know you're so sad we have to leave the park") makes it far easier for them to accept the boundary ("but it's time for dinner now"). This isn't about erasing hardship; it's about giving our children the secure connection they need to navigate it.

The Beautiful Exchange: What We Gain When We Let Go

When we finally find the courage to set down this heavy shield, what do we find in its place?

We don't become weak; we become human.

We trade a brittle, machine-like toughness for a resilient softness. We exchange the profound loneliness of isolation for the warmth of true connection. We let go of the exhausting performance of perfection and in its place, we find the beautiful, messy depth of our own being.

Letting go of this generational armour isn't an act of weakness. It is a profound act of self-love and the beginning of wholeness.

Perhaps the first step isn't a grand declaration. It is a quiet, private question the next time a difficult feeling rises: 'What if, just for me, I didn't have to be strong right now?'

And perhaps the next step is even braver: sharing that feeling, in all its messy truth, with another safe human being. For it is in that soft, brave, and messy miracle of connection that we find our true strength.