Redefining being a strong independent woman
Asking for help gives me major anxiety.
Offering help to someone else, easy peasy. But for some reason reaching out and admitting to someone that I can't do something makes me short of breath and queasy.
You're thinking to yourself, "Denae, that's kinda weird, and also makes no sense. If you can be compassionate to others and want to help them then it should logically make sense that receiving help doesn't make you "weak" or "spoiled" or "less than". It doesn't define you as a person."
You could say that and you would be 100% correct. Would I believe you? I mean I would pretend to believe you and say, "oh ya! For sure" But then I would continue on with my life never admitting to anyone else that maybe I wasn't as fine as I told them. And maybe I was "faking it 'til I made it" like all the time.
Recently God (with the help from my amazing therapist) has been teaching me first off, that it's okay to not be okay. And second, that asking for help doesn't make me a failure. Let me take you on a little journey in the life of Denae to show you how I learned these two things.
I remember the first time I failed a test in my entire life. (It honestly is the ONLY time I have failed a test) I was in Math 1050 in high school. It was a concurrent enrollment class through SLCC. I had got a B+ on EVERY single test throughout the semester. When the final came I didn't study as well as I should have (it was the middle of basketball season my senior year and life was busy, also I just really hate to study) I took the final and thought eh couldn't be too bad.
Before school later that week we could go see our test scores. A friend and I stopped by the math room to see what we had got. Spoiler alert: My score was not in the passing range. I tried to keep it together as my friend and I left the room. As someone who had ALWAYS been successful at school (outside of geometry because come on people shapes are NOT math) I was distraught. By the time we made it back downstairs to my friends I was basically in tears. Eventually I went to find my dad, who was a PE teacher at my high school. By this point I am in full blown tears. Thankfully another teacher found my crying outside the boys locker room and went to grab my Dad. He came out and asked what was wrong. I choked out something along the lines of "I failed."
My dad has a prep period first thing that morning. He went and got his keys and took be to breakfast. He sat me down and we talked about how failing is a part of life. He calmed me down and helped me to see that I would still pass the class. That even if I had a low grade I could retake the class in college and get a better grade.
He told me that failing did not make me a failure.
I continued on my way through high school. I made it to college. I served a mission. Graduated college. Started teaching. and just recently bought my 1st home. I still carried this fear of being a failure.
Somewhere along the way in I decided to give myself a label,
STRONG INDEPENDENT WOMAN.
(subtext, who don't need no man)
Now I do believe that woman are incredible and can accomplish anything they set their minds to. I'm all about that girl power. But in my mind when I gave myself this label it came along with
WHO NEVER ASKS ANYONE FOR HELP BECAUSE THAT MEANS SHE IS SOMEHOW FAILING AT BEING A REAL ADULT.
This of course is false. Asking for help is a form of strength. One I am currently trying to develop. God has of course been providing me with a multitude of opportunities to work on it, you know like He does.
For example,
When I was 1000 miles away in St. Louis when there was a minor water leak in my brand new condo and had to ask my friends to take care of it for me.
When my class sizes were going to be terribly uneven with boys to girls and I had to ask my principle to help even them out.
When I admitted that maybe I have anxiety and needed to try out therapy.
When my grandpa died and I didn't want to be alone.
I realized that no one else in my life was expecting me to be perfect. No one else thought I needed to do literally EVERYTHING by myself. They wanted to be there to help me. They want to be a part of my story. Like this past week when I was freaking out about all the things I needed to get done with my new condo and my parents showed up to see it. I'm not joking guys they literally solved all of my major concerns in 2 minutes. I credit the fact that they have been adulting much longer than I have, because wow they are good at it.
Throughout this process I have changed my label.
STRONG INDEPENDENT WOMAN WHO KNOWS HOW TO ASK FOR HELP.
(or at least is really, really, really, trying to be better about asking for help, I'm still a work in progress)
Seeking out help doesn't make us weak. It doesn't prove that we are less than. It absolutely doesn't make us a failure. We fail when we quit trying. And sometimes trying is reaching out to ask for some help.
I still get minor anxiety when I ask someone to help me. It might be a life long hurdle I have to jump. But I tell myself every day
Asking for help doesn't make you a failure. It makes me strong.
The most important person I ask for help on a daily basis is my Savior. With His help and the angels He places in my life every day I can be a strong, independent woman. How thankful I am for that.
Love,
Nae
Offering help to someone else, easy peasy. But for some reason reaching out and admitting to someone that I can't do something makes me short of breath and queasy.
You're thinking to yourself, "Denae, that's kinda weird, and also makes no sense. If you can be compassionate to others and want to help them then it should logically make sense that receiving help doesn't make you "weak" or "spoiled" or "less than". It doesn't define you as a person."
You could say that and you would be 100% correct. Would I believe you? I mean I would pretend to believe you and say, "oh ya! For sure" But then I would continue on with my life never admitting to anyone else that maybe I wasn't as fine as I told them. And maybe I was "faking it 'til I made it" like all the time.
Recently God (with the help from my amazing therapist) has been teaching me first off, that it's okay to not be okay. And second, that asking for help doesn't make me a failure. Let me take you on a little journey in the life of Denae to show you how I learned these two things.
I remember the first time I failed a test in my entire life. (It honestly is the ONLY time I have failed a test) I was in Math 1050 in high school. It was a concurrent enrollment class through SLCC. I had got a B+ on EVERY single test throughout the semester. When the final came I didn't study as well as I should have (it was the middle of basketball season my senior year and life was busy, also I just really hate to study) I took the final and thought eh couldn't be too bad.
Before school later that week we could go see our test scores. A friend and I stopped by the math room to see what we had got. Spoiler alert: My score was not in the passing range. I tried to keep it together as my friend and I left the room. As someone who had ALWAYS been successful at school (outside of geometry because come on people shapes are NOT math) I was distraught. By the time we made it back downstairs to my friends I was basically in tears. Eventually I went to find my dad, who was a PE teacher at my high school. By this point I am in full blown tears. Thankfully another teacher found my crying outside the boys locker room and went to grab my Dad. He came out and asked what was wrong. I choked out something along the lines of "I failed."
My dad has a prep period first thing that morning. He went and got his keys and took be to breakfast. He sat me down and we talked about how failing is a part of life. He calmed me down and helped me to see that I would still pass the class. That even if I had a low grade I could retake the class in college and get a better grade.
He told me that failing did not make me a failure.
I continued on my way through high school. I made it to college. I served a mission. Graduated college. Started teaching. and just recently bought my 1st home. I still carried this fear of being a failure.
Somewhere along the way in I decided to give myself a label,
STRONG INDEPENDENT WOMAN.
(subtext, who don't need no man)
Now I do believe that woman are incredible and can accomplish anything they set their minds to. I'm all about that girl power. But in my mind when I gave myself this label it came along with
WHO NEVER ASKS ANYONE FOR HELP BECAUSE THAT MEANS SHE IS SOMEHOW FAILING AT BEING A REAL ADULT.
This of course is false. Asking for help is a form of strength. One I am currently trying to develop. God has of course been providing me with a multitude of opportunities to work on it, you know like He does.
For example,
When I was 1000 miles away in St. Louis when there was a minor water leak in my brand new condo and had to ask my friends to take care of it for me.
When my class sizes were going to be terribly uneven with boys to girls and I had to ask my principle to help even them out.
When I admitted that maybe I have anxiety and needed to try out therapy.
When my grandpa died and I didn't want to be alone.
I realized that no one else in my life was expecting me to be perfect. No one else thought I needed to do literally EVERYTHING by myself. They wanted to be there to help me. They want to be a part of my story. Like this past week when I was freaking out about all the things I needed to get done with my new condo and my parents showed up to see it. I'm not joking guys they literally solved all of my major concerns in 2 minutes. I credit the fact that they have been adulting much longer than I have, because wow they are good at it.
Throughout this process I have changed my label.
STRONG INDEPENDENT WOMAN WHO KNOWS HOW TO ASK FOR HELP.
(or at least is really, really, really, trying to be better about asking for help, I'm still a work in progress)
Seeking out help doesn't make us weak. It doesn't prove that we are less than. It absolutely doesn't make us a failure. We fail when we quit trying. And sometimes trying is reaching out to ask for some help.
I still get minor anxiety when I ask someone to help me. It might be a life long hurdle I have to jump. But I tell myself every day
Asking for help doesn't make you a failure. It makes me strong.
The most important person I ask for help on a daily basis is my Savior. With His help and the angels He places in my life every day I can be a strong, independent woman. How thankful I am for that.
Love,
Nae
Comments
Post a Comment