Dear Penny: Who supports the supporter?
Dear Penny,
Growing up I was super active. I played a tonne of sports and represented my region in a few of them. My sport of choice though was football (or soccer as it was called back in the day). I played for about 14 years and loved it. My position? Centre-mid. It’s not the most glorious position but it's an extremely important one. Centre-mids are usually the work horses on the field. The ones reading the game, directing the team and setting up the plays. They don’t get the glory that comes with being a forward and scoring all the goals. Nor do they get the gratitude that comes with being a back and shutting down players to prevent goals. What you do get from this role though, is quiet pride. Whilst you somewhat sit in the background, the team couldn't achieve what it does without you. You’re an extremely key player who needs to not only be fit and skilled, but able to read and understand players in an instant. This is what I loved about it. The need to be constantly reading people, setting people up and directing people to get the win.
Turns out, that centre-mid energy didn’t stop on the football field. As I got older, I started noticing I was taking on a similar role in my professional and personal life too. It showed up everywhere. In my jobs, in relationships, and even in family dynamics. I’d somehow become the person quietly supporting people and holding things together. The one connecting dots, smoothing edges, translating between people and picking up the slack when things slipped. Not out front, not necessarily seen but always in the middle of things. Just like on the field, I was reading the play, spotting things before they happened, nudging people forward, and quietly catching what might otherwise fall through the cracks. It wasn’t a title or a job description, but it was always my role. The unofficial glue. The organiser. The communicator. The go-to. And truthfully? I was good at it. It felt natural, like muscle memory from all those years of football. But it also meant something else: I often forgot to stop and ask whether I had what I needed to keep playing.
Unfortunately, overtime, I started to notice the weight was becoming unsustainable. Somewhere along the way, the quiet pride I felt in being the supporter started tipping into something heavier. I was carrying too much. Saying yes too often. Absorbing the emotions and stress of others without leaving enough space for my own. The fulfilment that I got from this role was dwindling fast. Having now interacted with New Zealand’s health, safety and wellbeing community for almost five years, I’ve come to understand that I’m not the only one out there feeling this way. There’s centre-mids everywhere, particularly in the wellbeing and health care space. And at HeyPenny, we hear it all the time, stories from wellbeing leads, P&C professionals, HR professionals, H&S advisors, people who are quietly holding their organisations people together and carrying the weight of support on their back. The question it had me asking was, who supports these people? Who supports the supporter? And why do these roles tend to carry so much weight?
The next paragraph I wrote and rewrote several times, trying to unpack why this occurs and what factors are involved. I kept feeling like my writing was too complex, too ambiguous. And I think that somewhat summarises what the problem is ironically. It’s complex, which at times, makes it ambiguous. People are complex, organisations are complex and our systems are complex. Why people fall into the supporter role and why they often lack support themselves is therefore likely vastly different for everyone. The common theme that we can’t ignore though? That it is consistently happening.
The biggest opportunity I see within this space is for organisations to build support into the way we work. Support shouldn't be the responsibility of one or two people, regardless of whether they are a dedicated wellbeing lead or not. And it shouldn't be an isolated ‘thing’ that we seek out when sh*t hits the fan. It should be something that's woven throughout relationships and the way we operate and interact day to day. It also shouldn't be outsourced to technology. Receiving and giving support is a deeply human experience that's full of emotion, discomfort and fulfilment. It’s what enables connection and strengthens relationships. No amount of coding can, or should, replace that. I believe if we can shift support to the responsibility of the organisation and every individual in it, we will start to alleviate some of the weight our supporters are carrying.
Most importantly, I want those who fall within this category of centre-mid or supporter to know that I see you and I thank you. You’re the one checking-in, staying late, and quietly holding space for people. Your work matters more than most people realise. And while some of you may not ask for it or seek it, you deserve support too. Let’s not wait until the weight becomes too much. Let’s work together to shift it, to share it, and to build workplaces where care is a collective practice and not a personal burden.