Every family has one—the “good one.” The child who never caused trouble, who always did as they were told, who bent over backward to make sure everyone else was okay. If you don’t know who that person is in your family, there’s a decent chance it’s you.
Being the “good one” sounds noble on paper. You were the one who didn’t test boundaries, the one who brought peace to the dinner table while everyone else bickered. You excelled in school, made responsible choices, and never brought home drama. You were the steady one, the reliable one, the quiet hero everyone counted on.
But no one talks about the toll it takes.
Being the “good one” often means carrying the emotional weight of everyone else. It means being the mediator in family arguments, the peacekeeper when tensions flare, and the fixer when things go wrong. Your successes were applauded, but your struggles? Often ignored. After all, you’re the good one. You’ll figure it out. You always do.
And so, you learned to suppress. You learned to bury your own needs, your own messiness, to avoid burdening others. You became fluent in self-sacrifice, convinced that love was earned by what you did for others—not just by existing. You learned to give, but not how to receive.
And while everyone around you leaned on your strength, you quietly started to crack.
Here’s the thing no one tells the “good one”: it’s okay to stop carrying everyone else. It’s okay to be messy, to have needs, to take up space. You don’t have to be the family glue if it’s leaving you shattered. Love isn’t something you have to work so hard for. It’s not a reward for good behaviour; it’s a gift that you’re already worthy of.
So, to the “good ones” out there: lay down the cape. Let yourself be human. Let yourself be seen—not just for your perfection, but for your flaws, your fears, your quiet hopes. The people who truly love you will love all of you, not just the parts of you that are easy to applaud.
And if you’re someone who’s leaned on the “good one” in your life? Check on them. Ask how they’re really doing. They may not know how to tell you they’re tired of being strong. Remind them that it’s okay to be soft. Sometimes, the people who hold us up need to be held too.
Wonderful narrative! Now I'm itching to make a fiction story from this lol.
Oh wow!