When Asking For Help Feels Like A Bad Word
- Lisa
- Jun 9
- 3 min read
Help is such a simple word. But whenever I have gone to say it, I hesitate. There is a temptation to shame myself, and "just ask, already," but from what I know now, after spending years in personal therapy, coaching, and reflecting on my story, my ambivalence to ask for help, let alone receive it, makes sense. Recently on the GraceStory Podcast, we had the treat of returning to two of my favorite sessions from the 2024 Abundance Women’s Conference featuring Author, Lori Wildenburg, and Life Coach, Sarah Fry, titled, Asking For Help and Coping with Suffering. It made me realize that my tendency is to bear down, toughen up, and take care of things myself—perhaps you’re the same. However, Sarah Fry so brilliantly states that, “Stuffing it is not a good way to be okay.” There’s one particular story that comes to mind where I learned this the hard way:
When I was 17, my mom went on a work trip, and my friend was visiting from out of town, so we went out to dinner. The waiter offered us a high-rise table close to the front door and set chips and salsa in front of us when I recognized a guy I knew from the corner of my eye. My body shuddered, and my shoulders tensed; my heart skipped a beat. I tried hard to stay focused on my friend while she talked, but I felt my anxiety rising with every second. I started feeling light-headed but continued to push through. I took another sip of lemon water, doing my best to stay focused and calm. I asked her more questions to keep the attention off of me. “So, how has cheerleading been? Are you still dating that guy? How’s your mom?” Thankfully, she didn’t notice anything and kept talking. Then, a low, dull ring started coming through my ears. “Sorry. I’m not feeling very well,” I said abruptly, cutting her off. “What? What’s wrong?” she asked, worried. “I think I’m going to pass out.” I scooted off the tall chair and stood up, grabbing my things. My heart was pounding out of my chest. My hands were shaky, and my face felt cold. It felt like everyone was looking at me. “Can you take me to the hospital? Something isn’t right,” I asked, avoiding eye contact. She agreed, and we left without paying. We arrived at the ER, and my friend checked me in at the front desk and then left. After taking me into my room, they asked me if there was anyone I wanted to call. I shook my head no. The nurse left my room, and I tried to relax. “Should I text Mom?” I wondered, drafting up a message on my phone and then deleting it. “No. I don’t want to worry her.” I went the whole night without letting anyone know where I was. Morning arrived; the doctor finally came in, proclaiming, “Well, tests look good. Nothing abnormal. It may have been a panic attack. That’s very common for girls your age. You’re ready to be discharged. Did you drive, or do you need someone to pick you up?” I stared at him blankly. “We could call a cab if you want,” he said. “No… no. That’s ok. I think my dad is probably awake. I’ll give him a call,” I said, reluctantly.
I wish I had known at the restaurant and in the hospital room that “the goal in life is not to be okay all the time,” and to “pay attention to your body when it says no,” as Sarah Fry stated in her session. Stuffing my emotions and ignoring my body is what ended up putting me in the hospital. But even more than that, this story makes me curious and compassionate about the reasons why always being okay felt safer than exposing my needs.
Prompt: Can you think of a story from your childhood where you asked for help and it didn't go well? Or maybe a time when you needed help but didn’t ask for it? Take 30 minutes to write out the narrative from the perspective of yourself at that age. Consider sharing it with a counselor, story work coach, spiritual director, or trusted person.
Lisa's Bio: Lisa believes in the power of language and right-brained approaches to help people heal from trauma. She specializes in story work coaching, healing through the arts, and mental health education. She is a behavioral health nurse and content marketer for mental health professionals and has training in Narrative Focused Trauma Care Facilitation through The Allender Center. As the Director of Communications for GraceStory, she oversees the content development and implementation to engage, educate, and equip the community.
Further Listening: Download the GraceStory Ministries App to listen to the whole sessions with Lori Wildenberg and Sarah Fry.
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