One of the reasons I refused to ask for help for so long was that I didn’t want to appear vulnerable. I’d spent a long time thinking that “strength” meant being totally invulnerable. Never letting them see me sweat, as I’ve said. But it turns out that it takes way more courage to say “I don’t know how to do this” and “I can’t do it alone.”
It felt scary to let anyone see what I judged as my “weaknesses,” but as it turned out, it was safer than I realized. As soon as I asked for help, I discovered how many people were not only willing but were happy to give me whatever I needed.
Showing my vulnerability made me appear more human to others. I had projected the image of “superwoman,” and they had actually believed me! Once I let down my shield, they could identify with me and relate to me for the first time. The result was that they felt closer to me. They were all human, too, and they had all felt vulnerable.
I also discovered that asking for help ends isolation we feel from lack of connection and intimacy. I slowly started allowing people more into my world so that they could see all of me—both my “efficient” self and the part of me who throws up her hands and says, “I don’t know.” Feeling “help-less” wasn’t necessary anymore, though, because help was always right there. I only had to ask.
