Asking for Help

Why It's So Damn Hard

(and Why It Matters Anyway)

I have a confession: asking for help makes me feel like crap.

Not every time, but more often than I’d like to admit. There's this heavy mix of guilt, shame, and self-judgment that kicks in the moment I reach out. Even when I’m drowning. Even when I know, rationally, that I should ask for help—that it’s normal, human, healthy. But the moment I do, there's this voice in my head that whispers, “You’re weak. You should be able to handle this. You’re a burden.”

And maybe you know that voice too.

The truth is, asking for help can feel like failure, especially in a culture that idolizes independence and self-sufficiency. We’re fed this myth that strength looks like doing it all on our own—that needing others is a flaw. So when we reach out, even with something small, it can feel like we’re exposing some deep personal deficiency.

For me, it often feels like I’m admitting I’m not enough. That I’m not capable. That I’m taking up too much space. And then comes the guilt—like I’ve inconvenienced someone, like I’m pulling energy or attention away from where it really belongs.

But here's the thing: that guilt? That shame? It’s lying to us.

Because asking for help isn’t weakness. It’s courage. It’s honesty. It’s trusting someone enough to show them a tender part of yourself. And that kind of vulnerability—that’s where real connection lives. That’s where we find community. That’s where we remind ourselves and each other that we don’t have to do this life alone.

I’m still learning this. I still hesitate before I reach out. Sometimes I send a text and immediately want to follow it up with “never mind.” Sometimes I ask for support and then spiral into over-apologizing and trying to "make up for it."

But I’m also trying to rewrite the story. To remind myself that the people who love me want to help. That needing support doesn't make me less valuable—if anything, it makes me more real. And when I let someone show up for me, I give them permission to do the same when they need help too.

So if asking for help feels excruciating for you—if it stirs up all kinds of worthlessness and guilt—I see you. I’m with you. And I’m reminding both of us right now: you are not a burden. You are a human being.

You don’t have to earn help. You don’t have to apologize for needing support. You don’t have to do it all on your own.

Let this be a soft invitation to reach out, even if your voice shakes. Even if it feels messy. Even if you’ve been holding everything together for way too long.

Asking for help is brave. And you’re allowed.