Ep 14 Why Some Rural People Never Tell You They're Struggling

Why do some rural people keep everything inside?

Why is it so hard to tell someone you're struggling—even when the weight becomes overwhelming?

In this episode of the Rhino Resilience Podcast, Chris "Rhino" Swenson explores the hidden reasons many rural people hold things in, avoid asking for support, and carry heavy burdens alone. You'll learn what may be happening beneath the surface, how patterns of self-reliance and protection develop, and why opening up can feel so risky.

Chris also shares practical guidance for spouses, family members, and friends who want to help someone they care about without creating more pressure. Using the powerful "Frozen Pond" analogy and the concept of the "Isolation Boss," this episode offers a compassionate look at what it takes to create safety, trust, and connection.

Whether you're someone who struggles to reach out—or someone trying to support a loved one who does—this conversation will help you better understand what's happening and how to move forward.

In This Episode:

✔ Why some rural people hold everything in
 ✔ The hidden fears behind not reaching out
 ✔ How self-reliance can sometimes become isolation
 ✔ The "Isolation Boss" and how it keeps people stuck
 ✔ The Frozen Pond analogy for understanding vulnerability
 ✔ How loved ones can create safety without pressure
 ✔ Small steps toward connection without shame or guilt

🎧 Listen on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Amazon Music, or wherever you get your podcasts.

🌐 Learn more at: rhinoresilience.com

#RhinoResilience #RuralMentalHealth #RuralResilience #MentalWellBeing #StressManagement #RuralLife #FarmStress #Resilience #Connection #MentalHealthAwareness #RuralCommunities #StrengthForRuralLife

Transcript

0:19

Welcome back to the Rhino Resilience Podcast. I'm your host, Chris "Rhino" Swenson, and today I wanna talk about a group of people that I've spent a lot of time with throughout my years as a therapist, people who hold things in, people who say they're fine when they're not, people who carry stress, pressure, disappointment, grief, and worry without letting many people know what's really going on. And if you're sitting there thinking, "That's me," then this episode is for you. But this episode is also for those people who love someone like that. You know, maybe that's a, a spouse. You know, maybe you're a parent and that's a kid, or a friend, you know, or just a family member. You know, the person who always kinda keeps wondering, "How do I help somebody who never tells me that they're struggling?" Because one of the most frustrating feelings in the world is watching someone that you care about carry a heavy load while you're feeling, like, completely helpless about what to do. So today we're gonna talk about both, right? So why some rural people hold things in, like what's really happening underneath the surface, and how we can create that kind of safety and trust that makes it easier for people to stop carrying everything alone. So before we jump in, I wanna get to our weekly oopsie-tootsie question of the week, and this week's question that a listener wanted to know is, "Do I have any children?" Um, and the answer to that is yes, I have three. I have two daughters and one son, and I actually have a granddaughter who's eight and a five-month-old grandson. Um, so they're just wonderful to be. It's a great transition to being a grandparent. I absolutely enjoy that. So that's our weekly oopsie-tootsie question of the week, so thanks for all those people writing in with different questions they'd like to know more about me. So all right, let's get back to today's conversation. Because if you're someone who tends to hold things in, or if you love someone who does, I think this topic is incredibly important. You know, the first question if someone were to interview me I'd expect on this topic might be to ask me that, "Chris, why do some people hold everything in?" And honestly, I think most people misunderstand this, because a lot of people assume that if somebody won't talk about their struggles that they're being stubborn, maybe they're difficult or prideful, or maybe they just don't even care. But after more than 20 years of sitting across from people and listening to their stories, I don't think that's usually what's happening at all. In fact, many of the people who hold things in are some of the most caring people you'll ever meet, some of the most responsible, most dependable. They're often the people who check in on everyone else, you know, the people who show up, they- who keep things moving, that others count on. And if that's you, I want you to hear something. I don't think you woke up one day and decided, "You know what? I'm never gonna tell people when I'm struggling." I think you learned that. You know, somewhere along the way, holding things in started feeling safer. Maybe it came from family, maybe it came from some life experience, maybe from disappointment when you finally did open up, or maybe it came from watching everybody else handle their struggles quietly. I mean, the details may be different, but the result is often the same. And because this is Rhino Resilience, I do think there's a rural piece to this too. You know, people often talk about stigma, and yes, stigma can play a role, but honestly, I think it's, it's usually deeper than that. You know, rural communities tend to value things like responsibility, self-reliance, perseverance, and handling your business. Those are good things. These are strengths, but every strength has a shadow side. You know, where self-reliance can become isolation, responsibility can become carrying too much by yourself, and perseverance can become suffering in silence. So I don't think most rural people hold things in because they're weak. I think many rural people hold things in because they've been strong for a very long time, and after enough years, carrying things yourself starts feeling normal. You start saying things like, "This is just how I am. I'm a private person. I don't really talk about that stuff." But here's what I want listeners to understand. Most people who hold things in aren't trying to push others away. They're trying to protect themselves, and that's a very important difference. Now, if you're listening and you tend to hold things in, I want you to think about something. What happens inside of you when somebody asks, "How are you doing?" Not the automatic answer, not the "I'm fine," you know, not the answer you usually give. What actually happens inside? You know, for a lot of people, there's almost an instant hesitation, a pause, a calculation, a weighing of options, right? Like, "Do I tell them? Do I not tell them? How much do I say? You know, will they understand? Will they worry? Or will they look at me differently?" And often that entire process happens in just a few seconds before the words "I'm good" ever come out. That's why I don't think that this is really a conversation about talking. I think it's a conversation about safety, because most people don't hold things in because they enjoy suffering alone. Most people hold things in because opening up feels risky And if you love somebody who tends to hold things in, this is where I want you to lean in for a moment. Because what you see on the outside and what's happening on the inside may be very different. You know, like on the outside, you see that they won't talk. They keep everything to themselves, they keep saying they're fine. But underneath that may be someone asking questions like, "What if they don't understand? What if I become a burden?" You know, "What if they think less of me? What if I regret saying something?" You see, silence, they experience risk, and when you understand that difference, everything starts to make more sense. You know, one thing I've noticed over the years is that many people who hold things in aren't afraid of hard work. You know, they're not afraid of responsibility or sacrifice or carrying heavy things. What they're often afraid of is vulnerability, you know, being vulnerable, and not because they're weak. It's just that vulnerability can mean uncertainty, and uncertainty feels uncomfortable. You know, when you open up to somebody, you lose some control because now another person knows. Now another person can respond. Another person has opinions, and they might disappoint you. And for some people, that feels incredibly risky, especially if life has already taught them to be careful. So if you're someone who holds things in, I want you to start considering a question. Not, "What's wrong with me?" Because I don't think that that's the right question. The better question might be, "Where did I learn that I had to carry everything by myself?" Because most of the time, these patterns didn't dis- didn't appear out of nowhere. They were learned. They were practiced. They were reinforced. And understanding where they come from is often the first step towards changing them. You know, the next question I would expect someone to ask on this topic is, is, "Okay, Chris, if, if somebody holds things in because they're trying to protect themselves, how do we help them?" And honestly, I think the answer starts with understanding what vulnerability feels like to them. Because if you're someone who tends to hold things in, or if you love somebody who does, I think this may be one of the most important parts of today's conversation Imagine that you're standing at the edge of a frozen pond. You can see where you wanna go. You know what's on the other side, but you're not completely sure that the ice will hold. That's what opening up can feel like. That's what vulnerability can feel like. That's what telling somebody you're struggling can feel like. The challenge isn't necessarily the conversation itself. The challenge is not knowing what happens after you step onto the ice. Will they understand? Will they judge? Will they dismiss it? You know, will they try to fix it? Will they tell somebody else? Will they see you differently? You don't know, and uncertainty feels risky Now, if you're somebody who holds things in, I want you to notice something. Many times a decision to, to stay quiet isn't actually about the problem, it's about the uncertainty. You know, the isolation boss, as I call it, is constantly asking you, like in this part of you, this isolation boss in your head, it starts to mess with you. It starts to ask you, like, "Is this safe? Can we trust this person? What happens if we tell them? What happens if they don't respond well?" And if it isn't sure, it usually chooses silence. Not because silence feels good, but because silence feels familiar, and familiar often feels safer than uncertain. And now let, let me talk to the loved ones for a minute, because this is where many well-intentioned people accidentally make things harder. You see somebody struggling, you care about them, you wanna help, and naturally you start asking questions like, "What's wrong? Talk to me. Tell me what's going on." But from their perspective, it can feel like you're asking them to sprint across that frozen pond when they haven't even tested the ice yet. The more pressure they feel, the more dangerous the ice appears, and the more likely they're gonna retreat into silence. This is why I believe people rarely open up because they're pressured. They open up because they feel safe, and that's an important distinction, because many loved ones believe their job is to get the person talking. I don't think that's the job. I think the job is creating enough safety that talking becomes possible. That's very different. You got one that creates pressure, and the other that creates opportunity. So what creates safety? Honestly, it's usually not one big moment. It's a lot of little moments. It's consistency, patience, curiosity. It's being calm. It's being trustworthy. It's respecting boundaries. It's showing somebody that you're not gonna panic when they tell you something difficult. Safety gets built one interaction at a time, just like trust One thing I've noticed is that many people who hold things in are quietly watching. You know, not because they're trying to, like, test you or by being manipulative, because they're trying to determine if the ice will hold. They're paying attention to things like, "Can I disagree with this person? Can I be imperfect around this person? Can I struggle around this person? Can I tell them something difficult without being judged? And can I tell them something painful without being treated differently afterward?" Most people aren't asking do they care, they're asking can I trust them with this part of me? And if you're the loved one, this can actually be encouraging because it means you don't have to have all the answers. You don't have to be their therapist. You don't have to say the perfect thing. Man, you don't have to solve the problem. You just need to become a safe place, and sometimes a safe place sounds like, "You know, I've noticed you've seemed quieter lately." Or maybe, "How heavy has life been lately?" Or, "You don't have to tell me everything. I'm here if you wanna talk." Simple, calm, no pressure, no interrogating, no fixing. Now, here's something important Let's say somebody finally takes a step onto the ice, right? They finally open up. They finally tell somebody what's going on, and the response isn't what they hoped for. You know, maybe they get dismissed. Maybe they get judged. You know, maybe they get advice when they needed understanding, or maybe the other person simply doesn't know what to do. This happens more often than people realize, and when it does, that isolation boss in our head immediately jumps in. "Told you. Never again. Handle it yourself." But I want you to hear this. One cracked piece of ice does not mean that the whole lake is unsafe. It means that particular piece of ice couldn't hold your weight, and those are very different conclusions. 'Cause if you've had a disappointing experience opening up, don't let one person's response become a universal truth. Don't let one conversation convince you that nobody cares. Don't let one misunderstanding convince you that connection isn't possible. Sometimes finding safe people takes time. Sometimes trust gets built slowly. Sometimes you have to keep looking. But safe people do exist, and one safe person can make an incredible difference. Which brings us to another challenge. What if you're trying to be that safe person and they still won't open up? What do you do then? I mean, this, this gets me to talk about something that can be incredibly frustrating, especially if it, it's your spouse or if you're a parent or a friend. You know, that person who genuinely cares. What if you're trying to be supportive and they still won't open up? What if you've asked, you've checked in, you've let them know you care, and every time you get the same answer, "I'm fine. I've got it. Don't worry about it." What do you do then? Because honestly, this is where a lot of people start feeling helpless, and I understand why. When you care about somebody, it's painful to watch them struggle. It's painful to watch someone you care about carry a heavy load while feeling like there's nothing you can do One thing I want loved ones to understand is this: the person pushing you away may not be rejecting you, they may be protecting themselves. I know those can look exactly the same from the outside, but they're very different on the inside. So if someone's rejecting you, they're trying to create distance. If someone is protecting themselves, they're trying to create safety. Those are very two different motivations. And here's something I've also noticed over the years. Many people who hold things in are quietly asking a question. You know, not out loud, some not even consciously, but they're asking it. And the question isn't like, "Do they care about me?" Because most of the time they already know that you care. But the question is, "Will you still care if I don't open up today? Will you still care if I say I'm fine? Will you still care if I don't talk about it? Will you still care if I need more time?" In other words, they're watching to see if the relationship can handle uncertainty. Now, I wanna be careful here. I'm not saying that people, like, intentionally test others. Most people aren't. But when vulnerability feels risky, people naturally gather information. They're paying attention. They're noticing how you respond. Do you get frustrated? Do you become offended? Do you keep bringing it up? Do you disappear if they don't talk? Do you make the relationship feel conditional? Or do you remain steady? And honestly, I think steadiness is one of the greatest gifts that you can give somebody who holds things in. You know, not pressure, not persuasion, steadiness. The ability to communicate, "I'm here, I care, and I'm not going anywhere." That kind of consistency builds trust over time. Now, here's where I think many loved ones accidentally get stuck Because they become so focused on getting the person to talk that every interaction around them becomes about the problem and trying to get them to talk. You know, every phone call, every visit, every conversation, every text eventually just becomes, "How are you doing? What's wrong? Are you okay? Have you thought about what we talked about?" And while those questions come from a good place, don't get me wrong, but after a while, the struggling person can start feeling like a project and not a person. This is something I really want people to hear. You don't, you don't always have to get them talking. In fact, sometimes the best thing you can do is simply grab time with them. Grab some coffee, take a drive, go fishing. You know, work on a project together, watch a game, sit on the porch, check cattle, walk the dog, whatever it might be. Whatever fits your relationship. I mean, the activity itself isn't the point, the connection is. Because when someone's struggling, like, their world gets very small, where everything becomes about the stress, the problem, the worry, the pressure. And sometimes one of the most healing things you can offer is a reminder that life is still bigger than the struggle, that they're still wanted, still valued, still included, and they're still important, without ever having to force a conversation I think this is something rural communities have actually done well for generations. You know, sometimes support isn't a deep conversation, it's just showing up, helping with a project, bringing a meal, lending a hand, right? Spending time together. Because the message underneath all of those things is you matter, and that's a powerful message for them Now, I also want to say something important. Being supportive does not mean becoming responsible for another person's choices. You can create opportunities, you can create safety, you can create connection, you can let them know you care, but you cannot force vulnerability. You cannot force trust, and you cannot force readiness. The other person still gets to decide when they're ready to take that step. So if you're listening and you love somebody who holds things in, don't underestimate the value of simply showing up. Don't underestimate the value of consistency. Don't underestimate the value of being calm and steady because people who hold things in are often looking for evidence, evidence that they can trust, evidence that the ice will hold, evidence that they don't have to carry everything by themselves, and sometimes that evidence gets built long before they ever tell you what's really going on. You know, the truth is people rarely open up because somebody finally found the perfect words. They usually open up because somebody spent enough time showing them they were safe. And that leads to another important question. If you're someone who tends to hold things in, how do you start changing that pattern without feeling overwhelmed? Let's talk about that next. So let's-- I'm gonna talk directly to the person who holds things in now Maybe you've been listening to this episode and thinking, "Man, Chris, you're describing me." And maybe you've recognized some of those internal rules like handle it yourself, don't burden people, keep moving, stay strong. And maybe a part of you is realizing that those rules have been running your life for a very long time. The question becomes how do you start changing that pattern without feeling overwhelmed? And honestly, I think it starts by letting go of the idea that you have to change everything at once. Because one thing I've noticed is that many people who hold things in, you know, approach that vulnerability the same way they approach everything else. They put pressure on themselves. If I'm gonna do this, I need to do it right. If I'm gonna open up, I need to tell the whole story. You know, if I'm gonna go asking for help, I need to explain everything, or if I'm gonna change, I need to change completely. No, you don't. And honestly, that's that isolation boss in your head talking again because it knows that if the task feels big enough, you'll probably avoid it. You know, I think one of the biggest misconceptions people have is that reaching out means sitting down and revealing everything you've been carrying. For most people, man, that's way too much. So what if the goal wasn't telling everything? What if the goal was simply telling something? What if the goal was one honest sentence, one conversation, one trusted person, just one small step? Sometimes growth starts with, "Honestly, things have been heavier than usual," or, "You know, I'm struggling more than people realize." Or possibly, "I don't know really how to talk about this, but I wanted somebody to know." That's enough. That's a beginning Now I also wanna talk about something that shows up for many people, shame and guilt. Because for a lot of people, the moment they think about opening up, those feelings arrive almost immediately. The shame starts telling you in your head that you should be able to handle this. What's wrong with you? Other people have it worse. You shouldn't need help. And then the guilt jumps in. Don't put this on somebody else. They've got enough going on. You'll just become a burden. Sound familiar? Here's what I want you to understand. The fact that you're struggling does not mean you've failed. The fact that you're carrying something heavy does not mean you're weak, and the fact that you need support does not mean you're becoming a burden. In fact, if someone you loved came to you and said, "Life has been really heavy lately," would you think less of them? Probably not. Would you tell them they should handle it themselves? No. Would you be disappointed in them? Probably not. Most people would respond with compassion, yet we often refuse to offer ourselves that same compassion One thing I learned years ago is that shame grows in secrecy. It gets stronger when everything stays hidden. That isolation boss loves secrecy because secrecy keeps it in control. It can keep telling you, "Don't say anything. Keep it to yourself. Nobody needs to know." But when you start sharing even small pieces with safe people, something interesting happens. Shame often starts losing its grip, not all at once, but little by little, because you're no longer carrying it completely alone I also want people to understand something important. Reaching out doesn't mean you're giving up your independence. It doesn't mean you're becoming needy, and it doesn't mean you're losing your strength. This is especially important in rural communities because many people have been taught that strong people handle their own problems. But here's what I've learned. Strong people absolutely carry heavy loads. The difference is they don't always carry them alone. There is a big difference, and if you've listened to previous episodes, you probably heard me say that the goal isn't to carry less. You know, the goal is to learn how to carry things differently. This is one of those moments because maybe carrying things differently means letting somebody know what you're dealing with. Maybe it means accepting support. Maybe it means talking to a friend, a spouse, a pastor, mentor, possibly a therapist. Not because you can't carry the load, but because you don't have to carry every part of it by yourself. And if you're still sitting there thinking, "Well, Chris, I'm not sure if I'm ready," that's okay too. Remember the frozen pond. Nobody sprints across the ice. They test it one careful step at a time. Trust works the same way. Connection works the same way. Changing old patterns works the same way. One step, then another, and then another. So if I could leave you with one challenge, it would simply be this. Think about one person, just one, someone who feels reasonably safe, someone who's earned some trust, someone who cares, and ask yourself, "What would one small step look like?" Not a giant leap, not your entire story, just one small step because sometimes the beginning of change isn't a breakthrough, it's a sentence, and often that sentence becomes the first crack in a pattern that's been running your life for years. Before I wrap up today, I want to leave both groups with a final thought. You know, the people who hold things in and the people who love them because if you've listened this far, chances are you see yourself somewhere in this conversation. Maybe you're the one carrying the load, or maybe you're watching somebody you care about carry it. Either way, I hope today's conversation has helped you understand something important. If you're someone who tends to hold things in- I want you to know that I don't think you're broken, and I don't think there's something wrong with you. In fact, I think there's probably a reason you learned to do this. Maybe it protected you. Maybe it helped you survive. Maybe it helped you function during a difficult season of your life. Maybe it even helped you get through things that nobody else even knew you were carrying. The part of you-- That part of you deserves some respect because it was trying to help. But here's what I hope you also hear. The strategy that helped you survive may no longer be serving you. The isolation boss may still be trying to protect you from things that happened years ago and may still be treating vulnerability like danger. It may still be convincing you that staying quiet is the safest option. But sometimes what protected us in one season begins limiting us in another, and that's worth paying attention to. You know, one of the things I've learned over the years is that many people who hold things in don't actually want to be alone. They want to feel understood. They want connection. They want support. They just don't always know how to get there safely. And if that's you, I hope today's conversation reminds you that you don't have to have it all figured out. You don't have to tell everybody. You don't have to trust everybody. You don't have to share your entire story tomorrow. But maybe you can just take one small step, one conversation, one honest sentence, one trusted person because sometimes that's where things begin to change And if you love somebody who holds things in, I wanna talk to you for a moment too. I know it can be frustrating, I know it can be confusing, and I know it can be painful because when you care about someone, you wanna help, you wanna fix it, you wanna make the pain go away. But remember what we've talked about today. The goal isn't getting them to talk, the goal is helping them feel safe enough that talking becomes possible. It's a very different goal. So keep showing up, keep being steady, keep being patient, right? Keep being the kind of person who listens more than they judge, and keep being the kind of person who stays calm when conversations get hard, the kind of person who doesn't disappear when somebody doesn't open up on your timeline. Because people rarely open up because somebody pressured them. They usually open up because somebody spent enough time proving the ice would hold. Maybe that's one of the big lessons from today's episode. People who hold things in are often asking a question, not out loud, not consciously, but it's there. Is it safe? Can I trust this person? Will they still see me the same way if they know what's really going on? And every calm response, every patient conversation, every moment of understanding helps to answer that question. And as we finish today, I wanna leave you with this. Many people aren't carrying things alone because they want to be alone. They're carrying things alone because somewhere along the way, being alone started feeling safer than being vulnerable. But strength and isolation are not the same thing, and needing support is not weakness. It's part of being human. So whether you're the person holding things in or the person trying to help, I hope this conversation encouraged you to take one step toward greater understanding, one step towards greater connection, and a step toward carrying things differently. You've been carrying an enormous load. Now let's make sure you're carrying it in a way that allows you to keep living, leading, and staying connected. Thank you for spending this time with me today. If this episode made you think of someone, share it with them because chances are they're not the only person carrying something heavy. And if you're enjoying the Rhino Resilience podcast, please subscribe, leave a review, and share it with others. And don't forget to sign up for the newsletter over at rhinoresilience.com. Until next time, stay steady. We're in this together.