There’s a sentence that keeps coming back to me.
“I’ll handle it on my own.”
For a long time, I thought this was strength. Independence. Maturity.
Lately, I see it more as a learned pattern.
As if somewhere early on we absorbed the idea that asking for help is awkward, leaning on others is uncomfortable, and a “proper” adult doesn’t bother people with their needs.
But there’s a quiet twist in this story.
The task doesn’t get smaller. The weight just stays entirely on us.
And we don’t burn out because the work is too much, but because we’re carrying it alone.
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Interestingly, when we do allow ourselves to ask — not perfectly, not strategically, just honestly saying:
“this would be easier with a hand” —
nothing dramatic usually happens.
The world doesn’t collapse. No invisible debt is created. We don’t become less.
If anything, something softens.
The situation may not shrink, but it opens. It stops being sealed off. Lonely. Tight.
As if help doesn’t take something away, but creates space.
And as if collaboration doesn’t weaken us, but quietly returns something we lost along the way while saying “I’ll handle it.”
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Maybe the real question isn’t whether we can do things on our own.
But why we believe that we always should. ❤️