The Pressure to Be Everything and the Freedom of Letting Go
May 28, 2025
What one physician learned about unlearning perfection, receiving support, and letting herself be seen
There’s a version of strength that many women physicians are taught to aim for.
She’s helpful. Tireless. Humble. Brilliant. She supports everyone around her, anticipates every need, and somehow still looks composed.
She’s the mother, the doctor, the Proverbs 31 woman.
She gets it all done.
And she never asks for anything in return.
That’s who Dr. Tolulope Olabintan thought she had to be.
Until it nearly broke her.
When strength becomes survival
By the time she reached early motherhood, Dr. Tolu was already used to pushing through.
She worked through a miscarriage in silence.
She bled between deliveries, then returned to her call room to cry — quietly, privately, and alone.
She was hospitalized at 24 weeks pregnant, escaped once to prepare her nursery, and returned to work just one week postpartum… with a BP of 160/100.
Not because she was healed.
Not because she was ready.
But because she hadn’t been paid in 10 weeks, and the system wasn’t built to protect her.
It took a moment of complete exhaustion — not remembering her husband trying to wake her while their baby was struggling — to realize what her strength was costing.
She wasn’t being strong.
She was disappearing inside the role.
Performing strength doesn’t keep you safe
Culturally, professionally, even spiritually, Dr. Tolu had absorbed the message that support was optional — and asking for it was selfish.
So she stayed quiet.
And it took her years to realize how much resentment was quietly building beneath the surface.
She was being everything to everyone.
And no one was pouring back into her.
It wasn’t until COVID forced her to slow down that she began to name what was missing — and take it without apology.
Support is something you’re allowed to teach
Dr. Tolu didn’t just learn to receive help. She learned to invite it.
To name what she needed.
To say what she wanted — clearly, consistently, and without shame.
She stopped expecting people to read her mind.
She started building the kind of marriage, motherhood, and leadership she wanted — one where delegation was wisdom, not weakness.
And when family expectations clashed with her capacity, she chose rest.
Lovingly. Clearly. Without guilt.
You don’t have to prove your capacity to be worthy of care
Now, Dr. Tolu runs a thriving private practice and leads a team she pours into intentionally.
Not because she’s trying to be everything — but because she’s created systems that support her too.
She no longer believes strength means never stopping.
She doesn’t hustle to earn her rest.
She doesn’t perform motherhood to prove she’s doing it right.
And she wants every physician mom to know this:
You’re allowed to ask for help.
You’re allowed to rest.
And you don’t have to carry everything alone to be worthy of love.
