I spent most of my life being afraid to ask for help. I honestly thought that if I did, it meant I was a failure somehow, or inadequate and weak. I was a single mother at an early age and always worked two jobs, constantly feeling one paycheck away from losing my house, my car, and the trust my kids had in me. On my darkest days, whether it was financial setbacks or my poor health that broke me down, I did not know how to ask for help... I was too afraid of being judged or letting other people down.
I have always been the person who goes out of their way for others, who never says no, and who would give the coat off my back to make sure that someone else was warm, despite how cold I might be. I equated that to being kind, and I was being kind, but it often backfired, filling me with regret. It took me so many years to finally realize that I was giving for all the wrong reasons. I was giving to be liked, perhaps even loved, and I was giving for acceptance.
What I finally learned was that it is okay to be generous with your time, with your belongings, and with your gifts but not if you are doing it to get something back in return. And more than that, I had to learn that I was enough just the way that I am, and even in the ways that I am not. I had to learn how to make peace with all of me, which included the broken and fragile pieces which I was always so ashamed of.
Once I made peace with myself, who I was, how I got here, and what I can offer, I also realized that I was often choosing to share the best parts of me with all the wrong people. And when that started to change, I started to feel "taller," no longer shrinking down, almost cowering, assuming that was where I was supposed to be. Being "taller" meant being proud, and this was a new feeling for me.
When I lost my job in October, and was unable to receive unemployment, I went right back to that old feeling of being afraid of losing everything and feeling like a failure. There was a moment where I started to doubt and question myself, I even lost that feeling of being "taller," but that was my motivation. I did not want to go back there. This was an incredibly difficult time in my life, and I felt trapped by all of it. Until I asked for help.
This was something I was not used to or comfortable with. The people closest to me came together and supported me in ways that brought tears to my eyes. I didn't feel weak, I didn't feel like a failure, I felt like I had finally surrounded myself with good people who accepted me on my good days and my tough days equally, and without judgment.
As a hospice nurse I have witnessed family members pushing themselves to be able to care for their person, while also trying to manage a home, and children, and often a full-time job. Not asking for help because asking for help would mean they have failed in some way.
A few years ago, I might have accepted how they were feeling, but now I find myself looking them straight in the eyes reminding them that feeling vulnerable and scared is a natural and human reaction to everything they are going through. Asking for help does not make them weak, it makes them human.
So many people are feeling a sense of desperation right now, and are afraid to ask for help, or to even admit their struggle. Because of this there are human beings feeling scared, in pain, hungry, and lonely. I've been in this place, and I have felt these things, because I too was afraid to ask for help because that would mean I had failed.
This world can be so scary and the obstacles that get in our way, can be so daunting. We are human, we are imperfect, but we are doing the best that we can. We need to be the kind of people that helps elevate others in the way that makes them feel taller. And be the safe place that makes someone else feel okay to ask for help, knowing that they will not be judged, they will be held.
xo
Gabby
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