The Burden I Mistook for Love: A Reflection on Empathy, Responsibility, and Coming Home to Myself

Being an empath has always been who I am. Even before I had the language to understand it, I was deeply attuned to the emotions of others. At a very young age, I made a silent decision that would shape the course of my life: I am responsible for my mom’s happiness.

She had been handed a tumultuous life, one that left her with pain she often masked behind strength and a brave face. But I could feel it. I could feel the sadness beneath her smile. And as a child, all I wanted was for her to feel better. I believed—on some deep, unconscious level—that if I could take her pain away, things would be okay. She would be okay. I would be okay.

That drive didn’t stay with just my mother. Over time, it expanded to siblings, to a spouse, to friends, to co-workers, and even to strangers. I carried the belief that it was my job to ensure everyone else was okay. That their well-being was my responsibility.

And for a while, I wore this belief like a badge of honor. I thought it was love. I thought it was compassion. I thought it made me a good person.

But here’s what it really did:

It made me bitter.

It made me resentful.

It kept me in a cycle of emotional depletion—where my worth was directly tied to whether the people around me were okay.

It placed my value outside of myself, always waiting for others to reflect it back to me.

It disconnected me from my own needs, my own truth, and my own essence.

Most painfully, it kept me from fully living my purpose.

But here’s the beautiful twist: even that—especially that—was part of the purpose. Part of the mission. The lesson wasn’t just in discovering my gifts, but in the path I took to remember them. The pain, the resentment, the disconnection—it all had something to teach me. It showed me where I was giving away pieces of myself, believing that it was love. It showed me how I abandoned myself in the name of helping others. It revealed the cracks, not so I could break, but so the light could finally get in.

I now know that being an empath is a gift, but it only feels like a gift when it’s grounded in self-love and clear boundaries. Feeling deeply isn’t the problem. Forgetting ourselves in the process is.

I don’t need others to be okay for me to be okay.

I don’t need to fix, save, or carry anyone else’s pain.

I am only responsible for my own alignment.

And when I am aligned—when I return home to myself—I can show up for others from a place of overflow, not depletion.

This is what it means to live my truth. To live my mission.

Not by being everything to everyone, but by being wholly, unapologetically me.

And that…

That is enough.

When we change the world changes.