I had an awesome two week vacation with my family. On New Year’s Eve, I was sitting at home with my significant other waiting for the new year to arrive. We’d finished eating dinner (he makes the best shrimp and grits), and we were enjoying a live concert online while talking about our great Christmas holiday. We had all three of our boys with us under one roof for two consecutive days, along with our new granddaughter, Tori. We couldn’t ask for more. As the clock struck 12 a.m., we toasted one another, and I asked him “What were you grateful for in 2020?” He stared me straight in my eyes and looked at me as if I had just called him a bad name. He said, “The only good thing about 2020 is Tori! Other than that, 2020 can get on up out of here!” I paused for a moment and thought, “Wow!” I had no idea he felt that way. My 2020 experience was quite different from his. I started a new business and landed my dream job!

Sure, during the year I shared the same concerns as he, and at times, fear about the pandemic. I worried if our loved ones would get sick, or even worse, die. And I knew there were a couple of personal issues he was navigating that persisted and surfaced that he had to deal with. Aside from that, I was taken aback by his visceral response about the year. As we ran a couple of errands and relaxed at home on New Year’s Day, I began reflecting on our long journey together and realized significant discrepancies in our experiences had existed in other years, too.

I thought about the sacrifices he made putting his career on hold early in our relationship. He said he made them for the boys and me. I believed he made them for other reasons. I thought about the times I told him “No,” to an important question. He took my responses as rejection, versus, “Not now.” And the time he made a critical decision I didn’t learn about until a year or so after he’d made it. I encouraged him multiple times to stick with his decision, but he adamantly called it a mistake and promised to fix it. He asked that I stay by his side while he worked to correct it and I did.

In each of these scenarios and countless others, my experience navigating these times was different than his. I tried in some way to help him “fix” things based on what he was telling me. Not because he asked for my help – he didn’t – but because I thought that’s what you do for people you love. No different from all the help he’d given me over the years spending his money to help me build my homes, buy cars for me and the boys, pay college tuition and bills.

Well, it turned out that not only did he not need my help, there were times when my helping him made things worse, and in some cases, worse for me as well. It took some time, but I eventually learned that he was going to have to go it alone. It was his journey – his baggage – not mine!

To be the best version of yourself, you can’t be a bag lady. Some things are not yours to carry. I know it’s hard. It is natural to want to help carry the load, or “fix” problems for your loved ones. However, their problems are not yours to fix. Life can be challenging enough for you to take your own journey. The decision, choices, and ultimately, the consequences of someone else’s journey is theirs to endure. We have to be careful not to hinder what needs to happen in someone else’s life that might be critical to their growth and future by trying to help “fix” things. People know when they’re ready to make changes in their lives. You can help them through prayer, encouragement, and support, but by all means, avoid carrying their load.

The more I learned to stop helping my loved ones carry their load of disappointment, sadness, dreams deferred, bad choices, and mistakes, the more I was able to continue to grow and make necessary changes in my personal development, career, and my faith.

I can’t say that I’m not tempted from time to time to jump right in and “fix” things for my loved ones, but I don’t. I talk about the issue, ask if they need help, analyze their response, let them know I’m available if they need me, pray for them, and let them carry the load alone. I don’t know what the future will bring, but I’ve unpacked my bags. I encourage you to do the same.