The Day I Told Myself to “Suck It Up” – And Why I Refused
Last week I had a stomach bug. Nothing dramatic – 24 hours of misery, mostly over the weekend, so work was barely touched. By Day 3 I was technically “better.” Diary full. Work backed up. Brain still foggy, body still running on empty.
And there it was, plain as day in my own head: “Suck it up and get on with it.”
I actually stopped. Just stood there. Because honestly – when did that voice move in?
When did showing up half-present become more acceptable than showing up whole? When did “turning up and willing” become more virtuous than “turning up ready”?
I didn’t push through. I went to the sofa. And after a proper rest, I did manage a few low-key tasks that didn’t need much from me. It worked because I listened – not despite it.
But it made me think about where that “push through” voice actually came from. And the answer took me straight back to childhood.
The Early Programming
I loved school. Genuinely loved it. My brother – not so much. When he was ill, out came the toys and the Lucozade (that thick, sickly-sweet stuff in the orange bottle – and yes, this was the 70s before they made it even sweeter, if you can imagine that). When I was ill? I was told, plain and simple: “You’re not ill. Get to school.”
I honestly can’t recall ever throwing a sickie. I didn’t want to – I liked going to school. But the message landed all the same: your discomfort doesn’t count as a valid reason to stop.
Then there were the school trip threats. You know the ones. “If you’re not well enough to go to school, you won’t be well enough to go on the trip.” As if illness was something you had to earn your way out of. As if your body needed to prove itself before you were allowed to enjoy anything.
I even remember having to show my measles to my teacher so she’d believe I was actually ill, to salve my mother’s judgement issue.
Looking back, I understand it now. My parents both admitted to skiving off school themselves – pulling sickies to dodge classes or sneak off somewhere fun. So of course they were suspicious. They were judging through the lens of their own behaviour. That’s not a criticism, it just is. But the effect on me? I learned to override my body before I even understood what that meant.
It’s Not Just Me
I see this pattern in so many women, and while the details differ, the shape of it is the same.
Maybe you watched your mum drag herself to the kitchen with a migraine, making sure dinner was on the table because that’s just what you did. Maybe you had a boss who wore her ability to come in half-dead as a badge of honour – and made it very clear the same was expected of you.
I once heard about a woman who went to a client meeting – for a business matter – literally minutes after a miscarriage that had put her in A&E. I think it was meant to be told with a kind of pride. I was horrified.
That’s not dedication. That’s a deeply embedded belief that your body, your health, your pain – comes last. That the diary matters more than you do.
The Bit We Don’t Talk About Enough
Here’s what I want you to sit with: these weren’t big, dramatic moments. Nobody sat us down and said “your health is less important than your obligations.” It came in quietly – through a throwaway comment here, a threat about a school trip there, a raised eyebrow when you said you didn’t feel well.
Small things. Unremarkable at the time.
But they stack. And they shape behaviour patterns that we carry into adulthood without ever questioning them – patterns that frankly don’t serve us.
So I’m asking you honestly: do you listen to your body and rest? Or are you operating on old programming that says you have to show up no matter what – for work, for family, for housework, whoever or whatever ‘needs’ you next?
How’s that working out for you?
Because the sofa was exactly where I needed to be that afternoon. And nothing fell apart. In fact, everything went a lot better because I listened.
Your body’s been talking to you for years. It might be time to start taking the calls.
What’s the earliest memory you have of being told to push through when you were ill? I’d love to hear it – drop it in the comments below.