You learned this one early, and you learned it as praise for somebody else. A neighbor sat with a dying woman for three weeks, or an aunt took in her sister’s children, and the adults said it about her while you were in the room. It is usually a compliment, and a compliment asks nothing of you, so there was no reason to hold it up to the light. And by now you have probably said it yourself, about somebody, while a daughter or a granddaughter listened.
This is a good sentence because most of the care that has ever been given in this country was given by people who believed it, and it is holding families together as we speak.
But I want you to look at one word in the sentence. First.
First is an ordering. If somebody is first, somebody else is last, and the sentence never says who. It leaves that to be settled quietly by whoever is listening, and most of the women I know settled it the same way.
AARP and the National Alliance for Caregiving published Caregiving in the US 2025 in July of last year. Sixty-three million American adults are providing ongoing care to someone with a medical condition or a disability, close to a quarter of all adults, and that is a 45 percent increase in 10 years. They average 27 hours a week. About a quarter of them give 40 hours or more, which is a full-time job. Thirty percent have been at it for five years or longer.
The finding I want to show you is in a different part of that survey. It asked caregivers whether they had felt they had a choice about taking the role on. Fifty-six percent said they had not. Among those who felt they had no choice, 42 percent said caregiving gave them a sense of purpose or meaning in life. Among those who felt they had chosen it, 62 percent said so.
The work is the same work. The difference is whether the person doing it experienced it as hers to decide, and that difference alone moves the answer 20 points.
A sentence you learned at eight is capable of making a decision for you at 68. The call comes about your mother, or the diagnosis comes for your husband, or your son turns out to be unable to manage his own affairs, and something in you settles it before you have finished hearing the sentence. Good people put others first. You are a good person so everything after that is logistics.
We have inherited another story about caregiving: that putting others first will take years off your life. In 1999 a study in JAMA followed older married couples and found that spouses who were caring for a disabled husband or wife and who also reported strain were 63 percent more likely to die within the next four years. That number traveled. Caregiver organizations put it on their websites, it appeared in a federal report on aging, and at least two sites stated that caregiving can cost a caregiver as much as 10 years of life.
In 2015, three researchers went back through the evidence in The Gerontologist. David Roth, Lisa Fredman and William Haley found that the 63 percent applied only to spouse caregivers who reported strain. Spouse caregivers who reported no strain died at about the same rate as spouses of healthy partners, and 44 percent of the caregivers in that original study reported no strain at all. Put the two groups back together and the effect is no longer statistically significant.
Five later-population-based studies, one of them covering more than a million people, found caregivers as a group outliving comparable people who were not caregiving.
The authors are careful about why, and so am I. Healthier people may be more likely to take on caregiving and to stay with it, which would explain part of the gap. What they establish is narrower: a finding about a small group was repeated until it became a general claim about everyone.
The people repeating that number were advocating for caregivers and wanted help for them. It arrived with the authority of an actual study, and it frightened many women who were already tired.
What the sentence costs is harder to see and I have no figures for that. Think of a woman who is the first call for four people. There is nobody whose first call she is, because she never asked anyone to be, and asking would have made her a person who put herself first.
I have spent the past year going back through the advice or phrases I was handed and asking what each one is claiming when you slow it down. Some of them hold. This one mostly holds, and it has one piece missing.
You are the person saying it now. Somewhere a daughter or a granddaughter is going to hear you say it about somebody, admiringly, the way you first heard it. She will take it in whole, the way you did, and it will not occur to her to examine a compliment either.
So hand her the missing part with it. Good people put others first, and they count themselves among the people who deserve care.
She may still choose, sometimes, to put everyone ahead of herself. Love asks that of us. But sacrifice chosen is different from sacrifice required as proof that you are good. The survey suggests that having chosen it is part of what makes it mean anything.
That is the difference between what was done to you and what you are about to pass on. You get to decide what goes in the sentence. She only gets to decide what to do with the sentence you hand her.
What sentences that destroy self-care have you heard? Have you embraced them – willingly or not? Are you a caregiver by choice – or by requirement?
Tags Reducing Stress
I am thankful that I had never been told that. My relatives lived far away, and neither side was close. When my mom, who, along with the rest of my immediate family, needed care, fortunately she was able to afford live-in care, plus my nearby brother, who took her to the store and handled a lot of household details as well. I purchased long-term care insurance long ago because otherwise, I have no one in my life to be my caretaker. I happen not to agree that good people put others first, because often times, they are the ones who suffer for it. I wouldn’t want to ask that of anyone.
My mother’s refrain when we were growing up was “ don’t you dare put me in a nursing home”.
we didn’t.
I was a caregiver to her for over 15 years.
exhausting and difficult.
she has died now and I feel both relief and loss in equal measure.
Relief and loss sounds about right to me. 15 years and the promise was made for you before you were old enough to be consulted or asked. Relief is what the body reports after 15 years and it says nothing about whether you loved her.
Exactly.
my little girl self didn’t think to ask “ well then what will happen to you when you get too old to look after yourself?”
too naive to have called her on it…
I know I won’t do that to my kid.
Growing up in a large family we were all expected to do our bit, regardless of gender.
When I reached High School, (single sex, Catholic Girls College) I was astonished to learn some of my class mates were expected to make their brother’s beds and clean up after them.
My mother was a bit of a trail blazer in that regard. Highly intelligent, she had been forced to give up her education to help support younger family members.
My self, I am a resentful care giver, aware of my shortcomings and try to do my best.
I am thinking you may have filed resentment under shortcomings. I would file it under information. It is what unchosen work feels like from the inside and it’s telling you something about the arrangement – says nothing about your character 💕