If you like taking care of people, consider this.
A note for the caretakers among us.
Hello everyone, I’d like to talk about caretaking. By this I don’t mean the act of taking care of someone who needs help, but more the archetype of being a caretaker.
This is a tricky thing, because generally we think of being a nurturing person, or just someone who likes to help, as good. And it is! Generally.
Other times, however, embodying the role of caretaker is a way to mask our own problems, compensate for unresolved issues, or just seek approval and attention.
In short: the motives of caretaking can be complex.1
Let’s skip straight to a few questions:
Does caring for others meet needs for you? (Or perhaps: which needs does caring for others meet for you?)
Could caretaking be an attempt to manage your own anxiety?
Do you prioritize other people’s feelings above your own?
Do you take care of other people’s needs in hopes of being taken care of? (In other words, are you expecting reciprocity?)
Do you only feel you are valid/accepted/worthy when you are taking care of someone?
Finally:
Does part of you like caring for others because you weren’t cared for at some point?
This isn’t a test where “the more yes answers you have, the more likely you are a monster.” Still, if you experience any moments of recognition in the questions, it might be worth paying attention to.
So if you do realize that your caretaking tendencies may not be as simple as you thought, then what—do you simply stop caring for people?
YES! Stop right away.
(Just kidding.)
To restate: taking care of people in need is good. So is being generous, loving, and kind.
It’s just that, sometimes, the habit of continuous caretaking ends up masking something else. For anyone looking for suggestions in how to deal with this, I do have a few.
1. Avoid mind-reading.
Many caretakers try to anticipate other people’s needs. They make assumptions about what other people are thinking—and you know how assumptions often turn out.
Being a mind-reader requires a lot of energy. It’s also a very imprecise science, one you are likely to get wrong much of the time.
Therefore, the suggestion: Stop trying to read other people’s minds.
2. Ask yourself, “Do these feelings belong to me?”
If the feelings belong to someone else—such as the person you’re trying to care for—understand that you can’t manage them yourself. You can’t handle their anxiety, their depression, or any behaviors they exhibit due to their own feelings.
So if you find yourself carrying someone else’s feelings around, it might be best to leave them back with the person they belong to.
3. Notice that you are also a person who has needs.
Practice saying how you feel and what you need. Maybe the younger version of yourself needed something that you didn’t get, and now you like to be needed.
You have made a connection between being useful and being liked. When you are so useful that you become needed, you feel safer.
But this safety is an illusion, because you are still putting other people’s needs ahead of your own. Your true need is to feel secure, not just needed by someone else who is dependent on you.
4. Finally, use your well-earned caretaking skills on yourself.
You’ve already established that you’re good at taking care of someone—so give yourself the job of caring for yourself!
You can continue to care for others as well, of course. But when you examine the ratio of caring for others vs. caring for yourself, consider tipping it a little more toward yourself.
As part of that: can you also acknowledge those unmet needs of yours?
How can you care for that younger version of yourself? What can you do for them?
I’ve thought about how this applies to my life, and I started to write a story about it, but in the end I decided that the post worked well just like this.
Perhaps in the future I’ll say more. For now, thank you as always for reading. 🎈
Catarino, F., Gilbert, P., McEwan, K., & Baião, R. (2014). Compassion motivations: Distinguishing submissive compassion from genuine compassion and its association with shame, submissive behavior, depression, anxiety and stress. Journal of Social and Clinical Psychology, 33(5), 399-412.
Two and a half years ago I called a new therapist and left the message that I wanted to stop being caretaker to the world. I have worked hard on learning why I felt responsible for everyone's pain and need, including world leaders. At the venerable age of 80 I am discovering what it is like to identify what I am actually responsible for and what impact I can realistically have. I am learning freedom.
Chris, thank you. A very thought-provoking article. I took care of my husband after her was diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer after 43 years of marriage. Enormous stress, lack of support, etc. Feelings of rage and terror when I drove him anywhere as he gave strangers the finger and yelled at me for driving the speed limit or stopping for a pedestrian. I was fortunate to have a good therapist who helped me understand his need for control, as he had no control over his illness. Much more to this story: I wrote about it in my latest post on Writer, interrupted (“Twist and Shout, I Told My Dying Husband”) and got a huge response. I don’t think I was brave, as people keep telling me. I would do it all over again, but hope I never have to.