Pink Porcelain

"sometimes just getting up and carrying on is brave and magnificent." 

"One of our greatest freedoms is how we react to things."

"When have you been at your strongest?" asked the boy.  "When I have dared to show my weakness. Asking for help isn't giving up," said the horse. "It's refusing to give up." from The boy, the mole, the fox, and the horse by Charlie Mackesy

As the holidays approach, I know that this can be one of the most difficult times of year for many.  I've had this post written for years, but now seems like the ideal time to post it. 

    I always hated asking for help. Hate isn't really a strong enough word. I felt a physical revulsion to asking for help. Why? Well, for one thing I was a perfectionist who hated to admit that things weren't perfect, hated to admit that I was weak or had failed. But it goes beyond that.  

Asking for help means being vulnerable enough with someone to expose your weakness to them and then stand there, naked, while they consider whether or not you're worth their time and help. It means not only showing that your weakness, admitting failure, but also in the midst of all that, facing rejection. I could deal with the failure. I could deal with the weakness. It was the vulnerability and even more so, it was the utter rejection in a time of greatest need by someone who claimed to love me or be a true friend that I could not accept. If I was rejected once, even on or perhaps especially on small help, I would never ask again. If I was rejected on really big help, I found I could no longer look at those people, let alone feel kindly toward them. And, please bear in mind that on the rare occasion that I did ask for help, the answer was nearly always No.  

And, so rather than dislike and mistrust a growing number of people, I stopped asking for help. Can't get rejected if you never ask.  It was only years and years into my adult life that I found myself in such a state of utter brokenness that I cried out, begged for someone, anyone to help me, and kept begging until someone did. Even in that awful time, I got a lot of rejections, but it didn't matter anymore; I'd already experienced the worst, what was a little more? I didn't just have to face rejection, I had to keep facing it. It sounds like it would be the hardest thing to do, but it wasn't. At the end of myself, at the end of my delusion of perfection, it was either face up or give up.  

There were a very few who came to help and they made all the difference. Asking for help, isn't giving up, it's refusing to give up. Asking for help means that you are saying, I will keep going, keep fighting, keep asking no matter what it takes. So, keep going, keep fighting, keep asking for help until you get it. As for me, I'm no longer a perfectionist. Not interested in pretending. Not interested in trying. Far more likely to ask for help if I need it and shrug off rejection when I face it.  And far happier because of it.

Outfit info:  Selkie pink porcelain Renaissance dress--thrifted