The Sandwich Generation: When You Are Holding Up Everyone Except Yourself
- Dr Erin Reid

- Jan 4
- 4 min read
Updated: 2 days ago
There is a life stage that has a name ‘the sandwich generation’ but that tends not to be spoken about with the seriousness it warrants. It describes the experience of being simultaneously responsible for the generation above and the generation below: managing the needs of children who are still dependent, while also attending to parents who are becoming increasingly so. Caught between two sets of needs, with a career, a relationship, and a self somewhere in the middle. Trying to hold everything together without quite enough of anything to go around.
The name is neat. The experience is considerably less so.
How this life stage tends to arrive
It rarely arrives all at once. More often it accumulates gradually. The parent who begins to need more phone calls, more help with appointments, more of your presence at precisely the moment your children are entering adolescence and requiring a different kind of attention. The demands increase on both sides, and for a period that can stretch into years, the person in the middle is managing the emotional, practical, and sometimes financial needs of multiple people who each have legitimate claims on their time and emotional resources.
What tends not to be named is that the person in the middle also has needs. That they are going through their own midlife transition, often with less support than either generation they are caring for. That the work of holding everyone else together has a cost that does not appear on any schedule and is rarely acknowledged by the people being held.
What makes it particularly exhausting
The exhaustion of the sandwich generation is not simply a matter of volume (of too many demands and not enough hours). It has a particular quality that distinguishes it from ordinary busyness. It is the exhaustion of being needed in ways that are emotionally significant, by people whose needs activate genuine love and real anxiety simultaneously. A child who is struggling at school and a parent who is beginning to decline are not merely logistical problems. They are people you love, and their difficulties land differently from the demands of work or administration.
There is also the specific difficulty of managing needs that pull in opposite directions. The parent who needs more of your time is often competing, practically and emotionally, with the child who needs the same. Making oneself available to one can feel like a withdrawal from the other. The guilt tends to distribute itself evenly across both.
The self that gets set aside
What is most consistently deprioritised in this life stage is the self. The needs of the person in the middle: for rest, for time that belongs only to you, for relationships and experiences that are not organised around someone else’s requirements. These tend to be the first things set aside and the last things returned to. Often those personal needs are not returned to at all, because the demands do not ease in the way that was hoped. The habit of self-deprioritisation becomes so established that it stops registering as a choice.
When you have been in this position for several years, it often becomes difficult to identify what you actually want and need, because you have been so thoroughly oriented toward what everyone else needs. The self has not disappeared, it has just become dormant - waiting, without much space to make itself known.
The relationship with the partner
If there is a partner in the picture, the sandwich generation experience tends to affect the relationship significantly. Both people may be managing competing demands, with little energy or attention left for each other. The couple who functioned well when the demands were more manageable may find that the relationship becomes primarily a logistical arrangement (co-ordinating childcare and parental care, dividing labour, passing in corridors) with the quality of genuine connection progressively eroded by exhaustion and overextension.
This is not a failure of the relationship. It is a predictable consequence of a life stage that makes sustained relational investment very difficult. But it tends to be felt as a loss, and it tends to compound the exhaustion of everything else.
The grief underneath the busyness
Beneath the practical overwhelm of this life stage there are types of grief that do not get much attention: the grief of watching a parent decline. The grief of a version of midlife that was perhaps imagined differently, with more freedom, more focus on oneself, more of the things that were deferred when the children were small. The grief of relationships (perhaps with a partner, with friends, with one’s own interior life) that have been set aside and are not quite as accessible as they once were.
That grief deserves acknowledgement however, it tends not to receive it. Partly because the busyness leaves no space for it, and partly because the cultural message is that ‘caring for the people you love, is simply what you do’. While this may be true, what is also true is that caring for others at significant personal cost, without support, over an extended period, is genuinely hard and eventually takes its toll.
What therapy can offer
Therapy when you are in the sandwich generation is not primarily about managing the demands of this life stage more efficiently. It is about having a safe space that belongs entirely to you, where your own experience are the focus. Where the grief and the exhaustion and the self that has been set aside, can be attended to without guilt or apology. Therapy can also offer a space to think about what sustainable, rather than merely surviving, might look like.
If you find that you are holding up everyone else and have noticed that there is very little holding you up, therapy may provide a place to feel seen, heard and supported.
Dr Erin Reid is a counselling psychologist offering online therapy to individuals, couples, adolescents, and families across the UK and internationally. Visit drerinreid.com to find out more.







