Asking for Help

I was raised to be self-sufficient — to believe I could (and should) do everything on my own. Looking back, I see many moments in life when I wish I had more easily asked for help and set aside the identity I had built around independence. But life has a funny way of teaching us lessons repeatedly until we finally get them. Apparently, with some things, I’m a slow learner.

Over the years, when injuries, setbacks, or illnesses required me to lean on others, I resisted. If a friend offered to run an errand, I’d politely decline. My default response? “I’m fine.” My friends were kind and thoughtful, and yet I clung tightly to the belief that I didn’t need support.

It’s taken me 64 years to fully understand the truth: there is deep joy — and even healing — in asking for and accepting help.

A recent fall left me sidelined and on crutches, forcing me to face what I had long avoided: I couldn’t do everything by myself. Navigating daily life required assistance. My husband stepped in right away — cheerfully carrying my coffee, bringing me my book, and delivering things I couldn’t manage on my own. But then came the big question: groceries. (Confession — I don’t exactly trust him in the produce section!)

He suggested we go together. Skeptical but willing, I agreed. To my surprise, the grocery store had a wheelchair with a large basket attached. He pushed me through the aisles, turning it into a playful race when no one was around. I grabbed the items I needed, we laughed, and to my delight — I still got all my healthy food. What began as a logistical problem turned into a joyful, bonding experience.

I came home lighter — not just physically, but emotionally. I realized that asking for help isn’t a flaw or a weakness. It’s an act of self-care. And even more than that, it’s an invitation to deepen connection with those who love us.

When was the last time you let someone help you?