12/17/2025
Sometimes, independence is a trauma response we learned long ago. Perception is not always reality, especially when you are being loved unconditionally!!!
After my stroke, I was grieving my independence. Not the cute, Pinterest kind. The real kind. The kind I had protected my whole life. The same independence I side-eyed in marriage because I didn’t want to “need” anybody. Funny how life will humble you with a hospital gown and a walker.
I was embarrassed. Deeply. My husband helping me to the bathroom felt like my dignity was being repossessed with no warning. I snapped when he asked if I needed help. I wasn’t trying to be rude; I was trying to feel like myself. Sexy was gone. Pride was on life support. And yes, this grown woman had to be wiped. That’ll rearrange your ego real quick.
One day he asked again, “Do you need help?”
I said no. Stop asking me.
Four minutes later… gravity won.
I lost my balance and went down. No grace. No slow motion. Just floor.
I remember him walking by, then stopping. Standing over me with a smirk that said, I love you but you are hardheaded. He said, “So… do you need help or not?”
Listen: there was no strength, no coordination, no manifestation affirmation in the world that was getting me up off that floor. I laughed so hard I started crying. That ugly laugh. The kind that releases something. And he said, “Why do you keep trying to do everything on your own? I don’t mind helping you.”
Now let’s break this down.
Some of us are not afraid of being weak; we’re afraid of being a burden.
We learned early to be low maintenance. Don’t ask. Don’t need. Don’t take up space.
So when life knocks us down, literally or figuratively, we’d rather struggle in silence than accept help with witnesses.
But hear me clearly:
There are people who help out of obligation.
And there are people who help out of love.
The wrong people will make you feel like you owe them forever for a glass of water.
The right people will give you their last sip and act like it was nothing.
My husband wasn’t annoyed. He wasn’t keeping score. He wasn’t mourning the inconvenience. He was showing up. Fully. Without resentment. Without shame.
And here’s the lesson we don’t talk about enough:
Letting someone help you is not weakness. It’s trust.
Needing help doesn’t make you a burden; it reveals who is safe.
If someone makes you feel small for needing support, that’s not your shame; that’s their limitation.
And if someone stands over you, smiling, ready to lift you up off the floor without making you feel less than, that’s love in work boots.
Stop assuming everyone resents you.
Stop robbing people of the chance to love you well.
Sometimes independence isn’t doing everything alone; it’s knowing when to let yourself be held.
And yes, sometimes the breakthrough comes while you’re sitting on the floor, laughing, crying, and finally saying… okay, help me up.
