Why Asking for Help Is So Hard

Don’t Make It About Power Dynamics

My then 86-year old mother accidentally flushed out undercover cops in New York City.

She was on her way to her water aquatics class at the Y when she faceplanted on Broadway. Three undercover cops sprinted to her rescue and called an ambulance. Two hours later, on schedule, she returned to the apartment she shared with my cousin.

She walked in with her head bandaged and two black eyes.

My cousin freaked out. I freaked out. My mother had a working cell phone she knew how to use yet SHE TOLD NO ONE SHE WAS IN THE ER. She even took the subway home, because she was fine and it wasn’t a big deal. We Okinawans are independent and tough. But mostly, we’re stubborn as fuck.

It never occurred to her to call for help. Because she was FINE. She is always FINE.

I too have trouble asking for or receiving help. I’ll spare you the Psych 101 theories. Help — both the giving and the receiving of it — can be very loaded.

Think about it:

There’s “savior syndrome”, where you know better than someone else what’s good for them. There’s the help “codependents” dole out, and the help those with “learned helplessness” accept. There’s the help “control freaks” refuse because the world is better when they take the wheel. There’s the belief that help is debt with an unknown interest rate. The list is long.

But maybe if we thought of help as GENEROSITY it would be easier to accept.