I hate asking for help.
When I finally bring myself to ask, I have some cutesy little act all worked up just so it seems like it is some whimsical request I am making whilst batting my eyelashes. Why must I feel compelled to do this?
I love helping others.
Double standard, much?
How could I ever do the thing I love in helping others if no one ever asked?
My friend pointed out to me last night, "Larissa, people want to help. Give them the opportunity. Let them."
I've made a talent out of waiting so long to ask for help that I'm about to burst with emotion or dirty laundry. Real dirty laundry. I waited almost two weeks before asking for help fixing my dryer. Most of the time I throw in edible bribes or cash money to try and justify my helplessness. I'm so afraid people will see me as helpless. But why? I am a strong, independent young lady and have managed to keep myself alive without too many bumbles up to this point.
How many times has someone offered to help me with something and I never take them up on it lest they see me as a burden? Someone please kick me in the head to knock some sense into me.
Another friend told me, "You know, the more you let people serve you, the more they love you. The more you serve them, the more you love them."
So true. I'm going to work on this. Are you? (Cause I'm getting my carpets cleaned on Thursday and may need some help Wednesday night moving around furniture thrice my size...)
Totally relate to this. Both the willingness to help others and the willingness to accept help require a great deal of humility. My guess is that the latter takes more.
(My word verification security image today says "wagfix," and that makes me smile.)
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