The Supporting Role: Loving Without Losing Myself

Balancing love and self-preservation, one step at a time.

I am someone who is learning, truly learning, how to give of myself to others without losing myself in the process. It’s such a delicate balance, one that doesn't come naturally to me. My tendency has always been to give all of me. Every last drop. But the cost is high: I lose pieces of myself, and it’s hard, so hard, to get them back.

There are parts of my heart that long to love freely, and yet I’m learning that not every part of me needs to be shared. Some places in my heart are sacred. They deserve to stay protected, not because I don’t love others deeply, but because I need to love myself too.

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I’m realizing that real love doesn’t mean drowning. It doesn’t mean abandoning myself to prove my loyalty. And yet, the question lingers, how do you fully give your heart without losing yourself in the process? How do you love authentically without disappearing?

This is the journey I’m on. This is where I’m being called to grow.

I love my people. I really do. But sometimes, loving them has felt like jumping into the deep end without knowing how to swim. I've drowned more times than I can count, pulling myself out of holes I never meant to fall into. And each time I get hurt, it feels like a small death inside me. It’s not an easy wound to recover from.

But still, despite the fear, despite the vulnerability, I value love. I value connection. I don’t want to stop loving just because I haven’t figured out the perfect balance yet.

I’m also learning something else about myself.

I need my own time and space. After I give, I need to retreat. I’m not the person who can be "on" all the time, constantly showing up, constantly available. And there’s guilt in that sometimes, this fear that needing space makes me selfish. But maybe it's just how I’m wired, and that's not a bad thing.

I wrestle with it daily, how I believe God wants me to love others, how He wants me to love myself, and where that line is supposed to be. It’s a crazy, tangled, beautiful mess inside me, and I’m just trying to find my way through it.

Another piece I’m coming to terms with is how I often feel like the supporting role in my relationships. My people are big, full-color, front-and-center kind of people. They know who they are. They stand firmly in themselves. Something I admire so much and love about them.

And sometimes, when the comparison monster rears her ugly head, I lose my footing.

I shrink.

I get insecure.

I doubt my own voice.

Thinking I need to be more like them.

But I'm not.

And again, that’s okay.

Maybe the supporting role is where I’m meant to be, and maybe there’s nothing wrong with that. (why would I even make that wrong?)

I don't need to be the main character to matter. I can be the steady presence in the wings, the one who knows her place and honors it.

I can offer my love, my encouragement, my quiet strength, without losing myself.

Maybe the wisdom is not in thinking I have to force myself into the spotlight, but in embracing the beautiful, necessary space I’m meant to hold.

The supporting role.

As I write it, it feels right, feels like me.

I like it.

Curating my life with intention. Choosing how and when and where I give myself, and trusting that love doesn't mean losing my way, but finding my way.

These are the questions I'm asking of myself, what I'm pondering, visiting, and listening to.

This is part of that balancing act as I’m figuring it out, one messy, brave, tender step at a time.

Just thought I'd share.

With warmth and wonder,

Sherry🦋

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