The Ache to Fix: Learning to Let Go as a Social Worker

I have been wrestling with something lately: why do I feel so compelled, not just wanting but feeling like I have to, fix other people’s problems? It is the quality that makes me a social worker, an advocate, and a leader. But it is also the quality that is draining me. I hear someone’s pain, and I don’t just empathize. I internalize it as my responsibility to address. Even when no one asked. Even when I don’t have the bandwidth. Even when it means sacrificing myself. If you are a social worker, advocate, or simply a deeply empathetic human, maybe you know this feeling too.

Where It Comes From

Looking back, I see the roots.

• As a child, I was the “little cop” on the playground, tattling, correcting, trying to make things right.

• In the classroom, I was the teacher’s pet, always stepping up.

• As a teenager, fixing became a way to earn friendship or validation.

• In my first relationship, which was abusive, fixing was my way of holding onto love.

Now, in leadership and advocacy, it shows up everywhere. As Social Work Society president, cohort representative, student rep, researcher, advocate… I am building, fixing, advocating. Going off the rails in the name of justice and change, but at the cost of myself.

It feels like if I don’t do it, things won’t get done well, or at all. It feels like if I stop, people will struggle, and I cannot tolerate that. Deep down, I fear being seen as not good enough if I let things be less than okay.

The Cost of Carrying Too Much

The signs are everywhere:

• Slacking on responsibilities because I am spread too thin.

• Less time for my partner, for fun, for myself.

• No real rest, only lists of deliverables.

• Saying I won’t add more, then adding more.

And yet, I know I cannot keep going like this.

What I’m Learning to Practice

I cannot erase my ache for justice, and honestly I do not want to. It is part of who I am. But I can learn to live with it differently. Here are the practices I am trying to retrain my brain and protect my spirit:

• Decision Filter for New Tasks

  • Before saying yes, I ask:

  • Do I need to do this?

  • Can someone else do this?

  • What is the actual value?

  • Is this something I want to do, or feel I have to?

• Delegation as Leadership

  • Each week, I delegate a task and practice resisting the urge to fix it afterward. This is not just about perfectionism for me but part of my OCD, something I have been diagnosed with, medicated for, and actively working through in therapy.

• Letting Things Stay Not Okay

  • Once a week, I will let something small sit unresolved. It is a safe way to practice imperfection.

• Redefining Success

  • Success does not always mean results. Sometimes it means presence. Being with someone without fixing. Or empowering someone else to lead the fight.

• Spoon AccountingI

  • track my “spoons” (energy units). When I hit zero, I stop. Read More

• Inner Child Repair

  • I remind the little girl in me: you don’t have to fix things to be loved.

• Release Rituals

  • I will write problems on slips of paper and place them in a jar labeled Not Mine to Carry.

• Compassion Without Action

  • Instead of jumping in, I write my justice ideas in a “Justice Journal.” I revisit them later when I have the energy.

• Accountability Buddy

  • Before committing to something new, I check in with someone I trust: Do I really need to do this?

They Were Right

I can admit that I was warned about this. People told me not to take on too much, not to overextend, not to build so fast and so big. And honestly, some are within their right to give me an “I told you so.” The truth is, I only really learn through my own doing. When someone tells me not to do something, especially without policy, hard facts, or clear reasoning I can stand on (my justice urge kicks in), it only makes me want to push harder, to prove that I can. What I crave is not someone to hold me back with blanket warnings, but a mentor who lets me make mistakes while helping me mediate them before they spiral. I need someone willing to walk with me in the gray, not just throw up red lights I’ll want to run. Because at the end of the day, I still end up feeling like the problem child, even though my intentions are rooted in wanting to help.

Growing Through It

But I am learning. 2025 has been the biggest kick in the butt I was never prepared for. Through all the challenges, discomfort, tears, sweat, journaling, therapy, deep breaths, and both unhealthy and healthy coping, I can honestly say I am stronger because of it. I have learned so much and continue to learn every single day. At the end of the day, I know I will leave 2025 a different version of myself, and for the better. Life gets messy, and my mistakes are never small but full of grandeur, because I never half-ass anything (something I probably should learn how to do). But I am getting better, and I am giving myself grace for that.

Why This Matters

I don’t think I am alone in this struggle. Many of us in social work and advocacy are here because we ache to fix. Because injustice lights a fire in us that doesn’t go out. Because we don’t want anyone else to struggle the way we did. But we cannot save the whole world. And the truth is, the world doesn’t need us to. What the world needs are people who are present, rested, and whole, not exhausted martyrs. What the world needs is our sustainability, not just our sacrifice.

We can learn together: compassion does not always mean action. Sometimes it means being. Sometimes it means trusting others. Sometimes it means letting go. And maybe that is the real work, not saving everyone, but saving enough of myself to keep showing up.