You keep getting cast as the strong one because you keep auditioning for the role.
That is hard to hear. Sit with it for a moment.
The part was never assigned to you. There was no audition notice. No one told you that you had to be the one who holds. But you kept showing up for the callback. Every time something hard happened, you steadied. Every time someone needed, you arrived. And the room learned: this is the one who will not fold.
The cost of the casting
The role comes with respect. It comes with reliance. It comes with a kind of love that is built on what you provide rather than who you are.
It does not come with being asked how you are doing it.
The question underneath
Who are you when nobody else is around?
Not the version that performs. Not the version that holds. The one who is left when the room empties and there is no one to be strong for. Do you know her? Have you been spending any time with her at all?
Setting the script down
You do not have to quit the role. You have to stop auditioning for it. You have to let the room wobble when you set something down. You have to let someone else learn to hold — even if they hold it worse than you, even if they fumble, even if it is uncomfortable to watch.
The strength was never the problem. The problem is that you started using it to avoid the feeling of being human.
You are allowed to be the strong one and still be a person who is held. But you will have to teach people how. And you will have to survive the discomfort of teaching them.
