Even Strong Women Deserve To Put Down The Armour Sometimes

The warrior archetype is celebrated in our culture. Strength. Courage. Determination. The ability to push through and conquer. It exists in both masculine and feminine forms and, at certain points in life, it can be essential. The warrior gets things done. She protects. She survives. but what happens when she never stands down?

Retiring The Warrior

Modern life encourages us to live permanently in battle mode. We wake and immediately race – getting children out of the door, managing homes, bodies, inboxes, teams, expectations and endless to-do lists. Productivity norms reward speed and stamina. Hustle is glorified. For ambitious women, especially, being strong, assertive and resilient becomes a badge of honour.

Yet, the battle requires cortisol. And living cortisol-fuelled is quietly devastating. For many years, I battled through life. I adopted a hyper-masculine energy and propelled myself forward with relentless force. I wore invisible armour – decisiveness, independence, busyness – and told myself that fear was something to be crushed. “Feel the fear and do it anyway” became my mantra. And I did. I progressed, evolved, ascended.

Externally, everything expanded. Bigger houses. More responsibility. Four children. Growing businesses. Senior leadership roles. From the outside, it looked like success in motion. Internally, I was unravelling.

I pushed myself physically, emotionally and mentally far beyond my limits. Early morning workouts driven to nausea. Endless workdays without boundaries. A compulsive attachment to achievement. I cycled through burnout, immune collapse and recovery – only to repeat the pattern again. Each time, I vowed to be gentler. Each time, the warrior returned.

My most acute Warrior Crisis came when I sold my business, placed my children into full-time childcare for the first time in their lives, and stepped into a demanding corporate role to secure financial stability. My values were compromised. My authenticity fractured. And my fierce independence hardened into resentment. As income stabilised, my marriage did not.

Looking back now, I see a frightened woman doing her absolute best. I was wildly out of my comfort zone and needed the warrior to survive. She protected me when I didn’t yet have other tools. But armour, when worn too long, becomes a prison.

When we are scared, we harden. We defend. We over-function. I filled my days with motion to avoid stillness, because stillness made the fear louder. Panic attacks arrived at night. By day, I outran them with more work, more exercise, more socialising, more effort. I never said no. I raised standards relentlessly. Balance was entirely disregarded.

Eventually, something shifted. Not because life became easier, it didn’t, but because I did. I softened. I began to regulate instead of resisting. I learned to pause before pushing. I listened to the whispers warning me that how I was living wasn’t working. I wasn’t thriving. But once I stopped equating worth with endurance, I began to gently learn how to. I finally learned what success with grace was. How to feel it, live it and be it.

And here’s the revelation that surprised me most: when I retired my warrior, my impact did not diminish. It expanded.

Today, my life is still full – four children, businesses, creativity, responsibility, uncertainty. But I no longer live in battle mode. I feel calmer. More grounded. Clearer. I prioritise better. I nourish myself. I work from what illuminates my soul rather than what inflates my ego. I am no less productive. I am more gracefully productive.

The warrior was never wrong; she was just overworked. She had a role, a season, a purpose. But she is not meant to lead forever. There comes a point where wisdom, presence and discernment create far greater results than force ever could.

Life, I’ve learned, is not a battlefield. It is a game of awareness. One where we grow through adversity rather than collide with it. Where we loosen our grip on perfection and allow room for humanity. Muddy floors. Missed workouts. Imperfect outcomes. Two ice creams instead of one. And peace anyway.

Today, I follow my heart before my head. I trust intuition. I practise compassion – especially with myself. I stop before the peak of the stress curve and choose rest before collapse. I know when enough is enough.

Without the warrior running the show, the world still turns. Work still gets done. But there is more joy, more love, more wonder woven into each day.

So I ask you: where does your warrior still stand guard? Is she serving you or exhausting you? Is she protecting your growth or preventing your ease?

Strength does not disappear when we soften. It matures. And sometimes, the most powerful move you can make is to lower your shield, breathe deeply, and allow a different kind of leadership to emerge.

Bianca Best, author of ‘Big Impact without Burnout’, teaches ambitious women to master their energetic frequency so they can flourish in life and business. Through Maximum Impact, Minimal Stress, she shows women how to honour integrity, essence, and soft power to manifest dreams.

Views expressed by the author are their own.