On Being Grateful

i don’t receive help well. I have struggled with needing any sort of help for as long as I can remember- I hate asking for help, I hate receiving help, I hate looking back and knowing that without help I wouldn’t have made it to where I am. I have this warped idea of what it means to be an adult- that being 100% self sufficient is the only thing that matters. I adopted the mindset that no matter what the problem is, if I just work a little harder, things will come around. 

But sometimes that doesn’t work. Sometimes I stress and work harder until I’m sitting in an advising office at noon on a Monday crying to a woman who gets paid to promise me it’s going to work out. College is making me into a cry-er. I internalize the stress, the frustrations, the feelings of failure until there isn’t any other option other than to release them on who ever is in closest proximity. 

Through the guidance office, phone call, dorm room, tears- everyone has been immeasurably kind and supportive. I joke about family and partners and close friends being “required” to be there for me – but the truth is, they aren’t. Nobody has to be there for me, especially when I am a splotchy faced mess that can’t form a coherent sentence. 

I don’t receive help well. But I am learning. It’s okay to need a hug, to get tears on other’s shoulders, to go through half a box of tissues during an advising meeting. It’s all okay. The world is big, scary and sometimes pretty damn shitty – and the people you love and love you are the best (and sometimes only) life vests out there. So, I’m grateful for being loved. I’m grateful for people who give their help even when I am too ashamed to ask, who hug me when I’m crying for the fifth time that day, who remind me that the world around me may be getting bigger but I am ready to grow with it. 

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