The ‘Suck It Up’ Generation : And What It Cost Me

I grew up in what I call the “suck it up, buttercup” age.

If you’re anywhere near my age: approaching that big 5-0 milestone or already cruising past it: you know exactly what I’m talking about. It was an era where resilience wasn't a choice; it was a mandate. We were the generation of latchkey kids, the ones who played outside until the streetlights came on, and the ones who were taught, above all else, to keep our business to ourselves and our tears out of sight.

An age where if you cried, you were told to stop. And if you didn’t stop? “I’ll give you something to cry about.”

I heard that a lot. Maybe you did, too. At the time, it just felt like life. It felt like parenting. It felt like "tough love." But as I sit here today, looking back through the lens of a storyteller and a life guide, I see it for what it actually was: a masterclass in learning to disconnect from myself.

The Invisible Weight of "Sucking It Up"

When you grow up in an environment where your emotions are treated as an inconvenience or a sign of weakness, you learn to adapt. You don't realize it's happening when you're eight, twelve, or even twenty-five. You just think you’re being "strong." You think you’re being "low maintenance."

But something happens deep inside when you live like that for decades. You learn real quick that your emotions are too much. That your thoughts don’t matter as much as the peace of the household or the comfort of others. You learn that expressing yourself comes with consequences: judgment, silence, or worse.

So you adapt.

You swallow it. All of it. Your feelings. Your thoughts. Your reactions. Your voice.

And eventually… even who you are.

The Habit of Shrinking

This conditioning doesn't just stay in childhood. It follows us into our marriages, our friendships, and our careers. It morphs into people pleasing. We become experts at reading the room before we ever decide how we feel. We filter our truth before it even hits our lips because we’re terrified of offending someone or being "too much."

For me, this manifested as a constant state of shrinking. I made myself smaller so others could feel bigger. I stayed quiet to keep the peace, not realizing that the peace I was keeping was a lie. I was abandoning myself every single day to ensure everyone else was comfortable.

When you’re constantly wondering how to stop people pleasing, the answer usually lies in unlearning that "suck it up" mentality. It’s about realizing that your emotions aren't a burden: they’re your compass. But when that compass has been buried under layers of "I’m fine" and "It doesn’t matter," you end up losing your way.

The Modern Filter

Now, we live in a world that feels even more complicated. It’s not just our parents telling us to be quiet anymore; it’s the collective noise of the world. We have to be so mindful of what we say because everyone has a different truth, and one wrong word can be taken the wrong way.

So now, for those of us raised in the "suck it up" era, it’s not just about holding things in. It’s about filtering everything before it even comes out. We aren't just swallowing our emotions; we're auditing our very existence before we allow ourselves to be seen.

And when I really sit with that: when I find a moment of quiet reflection by my hearth: I realize something heavy. My whole life, I’ve been conditioned to shrink. To make sure I don’t say the wrong thing. Feel the wrong thing. Be the wrong thing.

The 50-Year Review

I’m about to turn 50.

There’s something about that number that forces a review. I’ve been looking at my life lately, not in regret, but in a deep, soul-level awareness. I’m looking at the storyboard of my life: the chapters I wrote when I was hiding, and the ones where I actually dared to show up.

I’ve realized that because of all that "sucking it up," I missed out on fully experiencing my own life. I held back. I stayed quiet. I didn't always say what I felt, or feel what I felt all the way through. I existed… but I didn’t always experience.

I’ve spent a lot of my life chasing dreams, doing, and achieving. I thought that’s what life was about. But as I work on my latest book, stepping into the shoes of my alter ego Evangeline Sol, I’m learning that the "magic" isn't in the achievement. The magic is in the presence.

Reclaiming My Essence

Reclaiming my essence starts with a refusal to be small. It starts with a decision to stop being the "Archivist" of other people’s needs and start being the "Narrator" of your own story.

For me, this shift is happening now. I’m realizing that the meaning of life isn't about how much we can endure without complaining. It’s not about how well we can "suck it up."

The meaning of life is to actually live it. Fully.

As I step into this next chapter, I don’t want to live half a life anymore. I don’t want to half-feel it, half-say it, or half-be it. I want to experience life with everything that I am. I want to feel the messy parts, the loud parts, and the parts that might make someone else uncomfortable.

Choosing the Magic of Now

If turning 50 has shown me anything, it’s that I’m still here. And I still have time to live it: for real.

This means making memories that feed the soul, not just memories that look good on a resume or an Instagram feed. It means being aware of the magic of life in the simplest moments: the way the light hits the floor during my morning journaling, the warmth of a fire in the hearth, the deep connection of a real conversation where no one is shrinking.

I’m moving away from the "suck it up" mindset and toward a "soak it in" mindset.

An Invitation to the Hearth

Lately, I’ve been finding myself pulled back to my own hearth: those small, quiet moments where the world softens and I can actually hear myself again.

If you’re feeling that same tug: that realization that you’ve been living a "half life" because you were taught to be quiet: I hope you’ll take that as a sign. It’s time to stop disappearing.

Final Thoughts

To my fellow members of the "Suck It Up" Generation: we did what we had to do to survive. We built the resilience. We did the work. But we don't have to stay in that survival mode anymore.

You are allowed to have emotions. You are allowed to be "too much." You are allowed to occupy space.

The cost of shrinking was high, but the reward for reclaiming yourself is priceless. Let’s stop existing and start experiencing.

Because we’re still here. And we still have time to live it for real.