The image of being the empowered, independent individual is almost everywhere, from self-help books to social media posts. You are the one who can do it, you are the one who should start that business, take that trip, love yourself. All of that is fine in moderation, and there are definitely things that no one could change except ourselves, choosing to change (and with some holy guidance, too). It seems that this message has been taken to heart by many, and it has become a race of who can be the most independent, self-sufficient human in the world.
I have been heavily influenced by this race, but for the wrong reasons. I had a hard time interacting with my classmates and other people of similar age when I was a kid and a teenager, and while my parents would support me in anything, they always expected me to have a plan. Since then, I started to learn how to do things by myself, from planning every detail of my assignments (which would usually be ambitious) to even learning languages. I would have opportunities to interact with others, but it usually proved hard as I had other priorities and likes — being organized and detailed, thinking about adult life, listening to old-people music, even going to church — that my fellow Gen Zers did not share at the time. That created a dislike for group assignments, when I would prefer to do everything on my own.
On the other hand, I was very scared to talk to people in general, as I was hurt in the past. And back in my day, customer support or any kind of help usually needed face-to-face interaction, which I did not want to do. This is where the urge to make and solve things myself became stronger than ever, and thus, I did not like getting help. I am still scared of it, and if you ask my friends around, you will know I prefer to find ways to talk to people in written form rather than by call or in-person meetings.
You surely realize by this point that, eventually, I had to ask for help on many things. From applying to college (since the U.S. system was such a strange thing to me) to moving my bags to my room on the third floor of Lamson Hall, life post-high school showed me that sometimes I am not enough to complete the task, or not without almost destroying myself in the process. I was still reluctant to ask for help anyway, even if many aspects of my life needed it.
I am sure I am not the only one who fears asking for help. Sure, some stuff might be easier to ask than others: asking a classmate for a pencil is easier than going to the Counseling & Testing Center to address your suddenly-decreasing mood and perspective about life. I must confess that I was scared of even asking for the small things, so imagine how frightening it was to ask for things like a ride somewhere or call the bank because a refund had not come yet. It takes courage to ask for help.
Earlier this semester, I was dealing with a difficult choice: what piano concerto to learn so I could participate in this year’s Andrews University Young Artist competition. I could not find an adequate piece with scores in the public domain that resonated with me. After months of looking, listening to different pieces, getting rejections, or not finding the scores, I felt there was no choice but not to participate. It was a great deal to me, since I really wanted to play with the orchestra one last time, but not finding anything (yet) was discouraging, and I had already gotten myself into the grief process for that dream. However, somehow I shared this with a friend, and his insight opened other possibilities for me, which I had not considered due to ignorance or prejudice. I did not realize that, by getting help from him, I could solve what seemed unsolvable.
Almost two weeks ago, I overexerted my knee and injured it. I had to humble down, allowing myself to rest and then looking for help. I found myself asking some friends and even professors for rides to and from campus as I was limiting my movement as much as possible to allow my knee to heal and prevent another injury on my other leg due to overcompensation. It was so hard for me to swallow up my pride and allow myself to be vulnerable so that I could get some assistance, not out of pure theater but because I really needed it. I had to take courage to ask for help.
It is hard to ask for help; it is probably unnatural to our human character. Sometimes, however, we have to negate ourselves, take off the pressure of self-reliance, and extend our hand to request help. It is part of survival, but it is also part of making ourselves better human beings. It connects us to others and makes us realize we are not alone in this life journey. Asking for and getting help will always be needed, so we should learn to embrace it.
I have to emphasize the importance of being willing to help. No one would ask for help if they fear those around them, just like I did. Many people daily need help, but they might only take the courage to ask for help if they find a community or people who show themselves loving and helpful, willing to hear, understand, and embrace the need. I think the golden rule applies here very well: “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you” (Matthew 7:12).
The Student Movement is the official student newspaper of Andrews University. Opinions expressed in the Student Movement are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors, Andrews University or the Seventh-day Adventist church.