HELP!

 

What happened there when you read that? 

 

Were you ready to lend a helping hand?

 

You were going to jump up and help weren't you?

 

Without judging me for needing help ... because we all need help, right?!

 

So why won't you ask for help? 

 

Oh, oh, because you're supposed to be stronger than that? It's embarrassing? Why can't you just get it together?

 

"When you cannot accept and ask for help without self-judgement then when you are offering other people help, you are doing so with judgement." -Dr. Brene Brown

 

You're human, I'm human, and we all have limits. We do not have an endless supply of energy, nor do we have to. Acts of service are wonderful and generous and kind but like Dr. Brene Brown stated, if we are unable to ask for help without self-judgement we will in some way pass judgement on those we reach out to help. Compassion is not a relationship between the wounded and the healer, or the helpful and the needy; compassion is a relationship between equals. That means in order for us to fully express and extend compassion we have to fully express and ACCEPT it.  

 

Stoicism is a sign of being stoic. Vulnerability is a sign of strength. 

 

When Cannon was born I handled postpartum the best way I imagine a person can. The day after we got home from the hospital I went on a trip to Target by myself; five days later Alan and I went on a date to a wedding; within a week I was out walking, pushing the stroller and walking the dog. He was born September 1, I had wonderful weather to enjoy and could spend time sitting on my porch.  As winter came I started to sink a little (as I tend to do in the winter) and by the time I hit February I was in deep. 

 

I had attached myself to the idea that I was that person that didn't struggle postpartum, I was proud of it, and I didn't want to let it go. Postpartum may not have taken me down but the winter took me down swinging, and this time I had an infant in tow. I was exhausted. I wanted to have a day to myself, I wanted a break, but I didn't want to throw in my pride because well - for all of the same reasons you may not.

 

I was breastfeeding which meant a whole lot of time with just me and the baby, and winter meant a whole lot of time of just me and the baby in the house. I was so tired of breastfeeding but I didn't want to talk about it because I didn't want to quit and I had made up the story that the only bit of advice anyone would offer me was to quit. Then came my day of reckoning. The knot in my throat was no longer going to stay in my throat, it came out in sobs. 

 

It. Felt. So. Good. 

 

I told my husband how tired I was of breastfeeding and he simply said: "I can't imagine, you're doing such a good job."

 

It was so simple.

 

I had spent weeks silently bearing through, convinced that if I asked for help or showed signs of “weakness” I would be less than. My pride was getting in the way of my health. My pride was getting in the way of my sanity. Once I reached out for help I didn’t feel less than, I didn’t feel judgement, I felt CONNECTED. That is what compassion is meant to do, create connection.

 

These days you'll find me lining up a babysitter because I want to spend some time alone, and I don't feel the least bit judgey about it. I want my son to come to me for help, and never experience judgement. I want my husband, my friends, people in my community, and anyone I come in contact with to feel, experience, and know compassion and the only way for me to genuinely express and extend compassion is to open up to express and accept it for myself.

 

Sweat & Smiles,

Melissa