Here are 5 ways you can stop being so awkward about getting support

Photo by Vonecia Carswell on Unsplash

I almost drowned in Puerto Rico and I didn’t know it. My friend and I rented boogie boards from a sea urchin type of guy who knew the rhythm of the beach better than anything else. He told us to stay on the left side of the rocks. My friend and I chatted up a woman who mentioned something about sewage being on that side of the rocks. Two slightly tipsy city girls who didn’t know how to swim decided to go against experience so we did our own thing.

Not long after me and the boogie board parted ways. I re-emerged close to the infamous rocks. As I was bobbing up and down, unable to feel the security of the sand, I concluded “All I need is to get to those rocks and I’ll be fine.” Never mind the force of the water around the rocks would have sucked me down (I learned this physics tidbit later). “Fine” never came because I only understood I was in trouble when the sea urchin ran towards me, Baywatch style. My friend, who made it out, called for help. She knew I was drowning, yet was baffled why I was smiling as I struggled.

This is often our relationship with support: we don’t know its importance until the situation is dire, the severity being obvious to everyone but you.

In my work, I focus on the Strong Ones, generally female identifying people who are the leaders wherever they go — in their careers, in their communities and in their families. People instantly recognize their ability to solve problems and generate actions and poof, you are given the ‘You are in charge’ wand wherever you go. It has its benefits — it’s cool when people listen to me and do what I say. Left to my own devices, this gift is a jagged, rusty knife. Unchecked, being the Strong One leads to exhaustion and resentment, and good ole depression.

Having not had any experience in caretaking, I was pretty delusional how far my energy could go. Sure I could work in one room while I took care of my bedridden father. Though I sing the praises of creating support systems with my clients, I did not immediately see my own need. I’ll chalk it up to operating on the fuses of adrenalin and too much espresso.

One of my cousins said flatly, “You will need support. You can’t take care of him by yourself.” I was too tired to argue otherwise so it must have been true. I thought my dad would resume his regular life any moment so what would I need support for? Getting support meant making his condition real and that it may get worse.

While this is true, avoiding asking for and accepting support is more about avoiding vulnerability. It must be what my dogs feel like after a bath: weird and vulnerable. I much rather do it all myself. The problem with this is it makes for a pretty isolated and stressful life.

Here is how I have been dancing with the awkward magic of asking for and accepting support.

1. Accept it and STFU. Resist the urge to kneejerk a ‘That’s okay,’ comment. Count in your head or take a breath. Know the other person is expressing their own vulnerability by offering support to a highly capable person. Their offer gives them a sense of fulfillment and purpose so accepting it is a way for them to connect with the difference they can make.
2. Pleasure and support go together like peanut butter and jelly — you can’t have one without the other. Pleasure as I define it, is the experience of satisfaction and joy in your everyday life, making it way beyond sex. Pleasure without a sustainable support system will be fleeting at best and coping at worst. Pleasure is the experience of being present in the moment, being satisfied by how it is (and how it is not). Coping is the antithesis of being present, as it can be used as a balm to put up with shit you want to change, but don’t.
3. Yeah, the ‘put your mask on first before your child’s mask’ cliché is true. You can not give what you do not have (I really did test this theory). Your mind will fool you into thinking you can keep going and giving without replenishing yourself, but this is adrenaline and it might even be your response to trauma. The thought ‘I shouldn’t work out because I can get a headstart on the laundry’ is a mirage and you have to treat it as such. Do this enough times, you will be exhausted and resigned. Plus, isn’t there always laundry to do?
4. Resist the urge to make it transactional. Do not attempt to reduce your vulnerability exposure by following up with the network-y response of ‘How can I support you?’ It can make the other person feel icky and you are reducing their gift to a tit for tat. Don’t sully it with your fear of vulnerability.
5. Accept wherever it may come from — people will delight you. I have been disappointed (more on this later) and positively surprised by how support has arrived in the form of encouragement from strangers to uplifting emails from people I haven’t met after I had to cancel yet another meeting. Human beings are inclined to contribute, as long as we allow it. The magic happens when you release how the support is supposed to look like and from where.

God works through people and support is a reflection of this miracle. Next, I will talk about the types of support and how you can engage your community because there is rules to this shit.