I am Always the Rock—But Even Rocks Sink Sometimes

Sometimes, we all want a savior.

You know the song—“I need a hero.” There’s a reason that line hits so hard. I think it is one of the reasons I have always loved Disney and Disneyland so much. Every story has that classic dynamic: someone in distress, and someone who shows up—sometimes flawed, sometimes unexpected, but always willing to fight for someone else.

Pocahontas has John Smith.
Snow White has her Prince.
Rapunzel has Flynn Rider.
Tiana has Naveen.
Jasmine has Aladdin.
Belle has the Beast.
Even Maleficent has her girl, Aurora, who sees her for who she really is.
I think you get the point lol. 💥

Each one of those stories makes something stir in me. Maybe it’s because, deep down, I often feel like I am always the one doing the saving.

I don’t mind being the rock. Most days, I want to be. I take pride in it. I show up. I stay strong. I remind others that they can keep going.

But here’s the truth no one talks about—

Even rocks sink sometimes.

That weight—the emotional weight of being the stable one for everyone else—can drag you to the bottom if no one sees you slipping under. It is not about being dramatic or asking for too much. It is about not being forgotten about being human.

Today, unexpectedly, I felt something I had not felt in a long time: taken care of. Truly. Someone listened to me. Really listened. Not to fix me. Not to cheerlead. Just to let me speak without judgment. And for that brief moment, I did not have to be the rescuer. I got to rest.

It reminded me how much those little moments matter. A reassuring word. A quiet presence. A safe space. My husband does this for me every single day—he is my biggest support, my soft place to fall. But sometimes, when the world feels loud and demanding, it is easy to forget that other people can show up for us, too.

I needed this. And I did not even know how much until it happened.

So here’s my reminder to you: be kind. You never know who around you is carrying the invisible weight of being everyone else’s rock. Maybe they are smiling. Maybe they are cracking. Maybe both.

Let someone else be the hero sometimes. Let yourself be the one rescued.

And if you’re like me—if you’ve been the strong one for so long that you forgot what it feels like to lean—know this: you deserve rest, too. You deserve love that pours back into you. You deserve someone who sees the heaviness in your heart and helps lift it, even just for a moment.

Because even rocks need rescuing.