Making the Ask

You’re ready to ask for help. Here’s what to do next.

Photo by Jametlene Reskp on Unsplash

Author’s Note: This is the second of a two-part series on asking for help. You can read Part One here.

In my previous post, I outlined four main barriers that make asking for help so difficult. Even when we identify these barriers beforehand and develop strategies to surmount them, our work is not yet complete.

We still need to make the ask. All the preparation in the world means nothing until we say the words: “I need help.”

Today, I am going to share a personal story from 2010 as an example of what to do (and what not to do) when we ask for help. 

At the time, I was struggling to manage the symptoms of my muscle disease and needed to let those close to me know the severity of what was going on. I had spent two years battling my symptoms all alone and was combusting under the pressure. Every action I took to halt the disease failed; I could no longer hide that I was getting weaker. Daily activities, from doing laundry to climbing a flight of stairs, were becoming more difficult every day.

I knew that if I waited any longer to ask for help, life would eventually force my hand. 

There is no “right” way to ask for help. But if you want to put yourself — and those helping you — in the best position possible, consider these five questions first:

1. Which mental barriers are keeping me from asking for help?

(For a quick refresher, you can read up on the four barriers: pride, vulnerability, getting hurt, and burdening others here.)

In 2010, my biggest barriers were pride and vulnerability. 

I was so proud, so fiercely independent, that it pained me to admit that I could no longer effectively handle what was happening to me on my own. 

Compounding my misery, I struggled to share my emotions with others. I was (and still am) a very private person and didn’t know how to convey my deepest fears and concerns about my future. Asking for help would require a level of vulnerability and transparency I had never shown before, not even to my family. But if I didn’t tell them, they would figure it out one way or another when they saw me walking slowly or struggling to get out of a chair. I knew it would be better to be proactive than to have them understand the depth of my issues as they scraped me off the ground. 

The other barriers were also an issue. Although I wasn’t afraid my parents or best friends would reject me, I didn’t want to be defined as incapable, frail, or a burden. I feared the stigma of being looked at differently.

It took several days to work up the courage to have these conversations. It wasn’t until I was able to address these mental blocks that I felt confident enough to let people know what was going on.

Before asking for help, it is important to think about which barrier (or barriers) is giving you the most difficulty. Take some time to explore the root causes of your fears and how you can address them. Do these fears hold up under scrutiny? Many times they don’t. 

The more you cultivate an awareness of what is holding you back, the more confident and prepared you will feel when it comes time to ask for help.

2. What specific help do I need?

It is tempting to just blurt out, “I need help!” without going into specifics. But this is a vague request that can lead to confusion, leaving you in an uncomfortable limbo where you request help but the other person has no idea how to respond.

Take a moment to think about what would make your life easier. Are you looking for a shoulder to cry on? Someone to offer you advice in an impartial way? Expertise? A mentor or role model? 

In my situation, I knew that if I asked for help but didn’t back it up with the why and the how, I would make the situation worse. If my ask wasn’t clear, there was a good chance that I’d clam up, get frustrated, and delay the opportunity to improve my life. This would be a disservice to both parties.

More than anything, I was in desperate need of emotional support. I needed friends and family to check on me from time to time and let me know that I wasn’t alone in my struggle. By taking on the disease all alone, I was depriving myself of their love. If it looked like I was wearing down, I wanted them to ask how I was doing. I wasn’t always an objective observer who acted in my best interests; I had a maddening tendency to run myself into the ground.

I also would need help with everyday activities, from laundry to grocery shopping — anything that involved carrying heavy objects up the stairs. 

Photo by Neil Thomas on Unsplash

3. Who is best suited to help me?

Once you know what help you need, the next step is to figure out the right person to ask. It may end up being that different people provide different kinds of help. One person usually can’t do everything, and that’s okay.

Think about the strengths (and weaknesses) of those you might ask. Are some people better at offering emotional support? Are others good problem solvers? Is there anyone who’s dealt with what you’re going through?

In my circumstance, my family and friends were well suited to play complementary roles. For emotional support, I would look to my parents and sister. They already knew that I had this disease (even if they didn’t yet know the full story), so the news wouldn’t come as a shock, even if the rapid symptom onset was unexpected. 

For day-to-day needs, I would rely on my roommates since my parents lived more than 100 miles away from my apartment in Boston. My roommates were the ones who could help me with laundry, carry my groceries, and drive me on errands.

4. What boundaries shouldn’t be crossed?

Many times when we ask for help, we forget to set appropriate boundaries. But this is a key consideration if we want to avoid future awkwardness and hurt feelings.

Is there an area of your life that is off-limits? Is there a line that shouldn’t be crossed? Make it clear up front. For example, maybe you don’t like people doing things for you without being asked. Sometimes, well-intentioned people can trample over our personal sovereignty by assuming we need constant help.

I knew I would need my roommates to help me with heavy objects. I didn’t want them to have to ask each time before jumping in. If they saw me about to pick up something heavy — such as a laundry bag or a backpack — they could go ahead and take it from me and I would be perfectly fine with it.

But I didn’t want this automatic help to extend to every aspect of my life. There were still tasks I wanted to do by myself, like cooking or going for walks. As long as I was still able to do them independently, I wanted to retain that control.

5. What’s the best communication strategy?

Under normal circumstances, you might have a preferred communication method — phone call, text, email, face-to-face — but when it comes to asking for help, not all methods are equally effective.

When asking for help, it is better to go into detail and fully explain your situation. The person you’re asking is likely to have a lot of follow-up questions, which makes texting less than ideal. Not to mention, if someone receives a request for help over text, they might not think it’s a serious problem.

After you select your method of communication, you will want to think about your rollout strategy. In other words, do you want to tell everyone all at once, or have separate conversations? Is one person prone to gossiping to others? If so, you might want to ask them last so they don’t spill the beans prematurely.

In my situation, Thanksgiving was coming up, and it was the perfect opportunity to tell my parents and sister in person at the same time. Then, when I got back from the holiday break, I would tell my roommates.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

A weight off my shoulders

When I told my parents and sister over Thanksgiving, I came clean and told them everything. There was so much about my condition that I had withheld, and it was easier to just let it all out. I explained that I was starting to crack under the strain and needed their emotional support. Any logistical help they could provide at doctors’ appointments or with daily activities would also be appreciated. 

They were shocked to hear about the severity of my condition but understood it was a heavy topic to share. Most of all, they reiterated their love for me and offered to do anything I needed. 

When I returned from Thanksgiving break, I was ready to tell my roommates, only I couldn’t figure out the best method. Unlike my family, they didn’t know I had a disease, even if they noticed I was starting to turn down invitations to play sports and go to the gym.

I realized it would be too awkward to tell them in person. (Is there ever a good time to tell someone you have a disease?) Instead, I sent them a long email while I was at work. This way, I could state exactly what was wrong and let the cat out of the bag from afar. 

At night, when we were all sitting in front of the TV, I answered any remaining questions about my prognosis. It wasn’t the most fun experience, but I was relieved to be done with it. They were happy to help, especially after I told them I’d buy them beer for their efforts.

Once everyone finally knew, a massive weight was lifted off my shoulders and I could breathe again.

Final thoughts

Looking back on this important time in my life, I realize that my fears, although valid, were overblown. Although my circumstances forced my hand, asking for help was a turning point for me. 

In the years after my disclosure, my family and friends stepped up to the plate. They helped me find a new apartment when I could no longer climb stairs. They drove me on errands, so I didn’t need to walk or take public transportation. They preserved my strength so I could stay upright for as long as possible.

Most importantly, my family and friends provided the support and encouragement I needed to navigate the dark times to come. As tough as those early years of my disease were, they would have been infinitely more difficult had I continued fighting alone.

Asking for help is never fun, but it can change our lives. The key is to get out of our own way.

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