Caring for the Carer: Support and Self‑Care During Challenging Times

“Caring for another begins with caring for ourselves—the heart can only give what it has the strength to hold."  

Caring for someone we love can be one of life’s most profound experiences—a mix of tenderness, strength, exhaustion, and grace. In a small way, over the past 16 months, I’ve walked this path myself, caring for my partner as he waited for surgery and recovered from surgery for a heart condition.

When Love Becomes a Full-Time Role

 

Those months were filled with hospital visits, medication routines, and moments of worry that lingered long into the night. My focus was mainly on his physical and emotional well-being—making sure he felt safe, supported, and seen. Even though it was a relatively short season, I caught a glimpse of what long-term carers live with daily: the weight of responsibility, the constant alertness, and the quiet fatigue that builds when you put someone else’s needs before your own.

It deepened my empathy for those caring for a spouse, parent, or child year after year. Caregiving asks so much of your heart. It can also quietly erode your reserves if you don’t pause to replenish them.

The Hidden Challenge of Self-Care

 

For many women, especially, caring feels instinctive. We step in, manage, fix, and soothe—often without thinking to ask for help. Behind that impulse is love, but also a cultural conditioning that praises selflessness and persistence. Over time, that can make it hard to notice our own exhaustion or to believe we’re worthy of rest.

So often, we mistake strength for endurance. But true strength lies in allowing support, kindness, and rest to hold us, too.

Five Practical Ways to Care for Yourself While Caring for Others.

 

1. Create small rituals of restoration. Even five minutes of deep breathing, a cup of tea in silence, or a walk outside can signal to your nervous system that you are safe to pause.

2. Stay connected with others. Isolation is common for carers. Reach out to a friend, a counsellor, or a community group where you can speak openly without judgment.

3. Accept help—gratefully, not guiltily. Let others cook a meal, run errands, or sit with you. Support is not a luxury—it’s a lifeline.

4. Listen to your body. Fatigue, headaches, or mood changes are often whispers that you need care too. Honour them before they become a roar.

5. Hold space for your own emotions. Caring brings love, but also frustration, grief, and fear. Giving these feelings a voice—through journaling, therapy, or conversation—prevents them from hardening into burnout.

 

Why Women Find It Hard to Ask for Help

 

Many women are raised to equate caregiving with worthiness. Saying we need help can feel like admitting weakness, failure, or selfishness. Yet, receiving support is not the opposite of giving care—it’s what sustains it. When we allow others to help, we model balance for those who will one day need to care for us, or alongside us.

Caring for someone calls forth deep compassion, but it must begin with the same compassion turned inward. Healing isn’t only for those we care for—it’s for the carers, too.

This Week's Reflections

1. What has caregiving taught me about my own needs, boundaries, and capacity for compassion?

2. In what small ways can I invite more support or self-nurturing into my days, even while caring for others?

3. When I think about balance, what does giving and receiving care look like in a healthy, sustainable way for me?