You Know What You Need…So Why Can’t You Ask?

Last week, I wrote about one of my favorite reminders:

It’s always OK to ask for what you need.

That is true. It is also true that sometimes asking is hard. I can’t tell you how many people have said something to me along the lines of:

“I wish my kids would call me more.”

“I wish my friends would ask me out for coffee or tea or a beer.”

“I wish somebody would just stop by.”

And when I ask, “Why don’t you tell them that?” the response is often immediate.

“Oh, I couldn’t do that.”

Or:

“I wouldn’t even know how.”

Which is interesting. We can know exactly what we need and still feel almost unable to say it out loud.

The Myth of Doing It Yourself

Part of the reason asking for what we need is so hard is that many of us have spent a lifetime being taught that we shouldn’t need much in the first place. Be strong. Handle your own problems. Don’t bother anybody. Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps. Which, if you think about it for more than about six seconds, is a ridiculous image. Go ahead. Grab the straps on your boots and pull. Let me know how far you get.

And yet somehow we took an impossible physical maneuver and turned it into a philosophy of life: strong people take care of themselves. Successful people make their own way. Needing somebody else means you haven’t quite gotten your act together.

That’s a lovely story. It’s also complete B.S.

Because the truth is, there is no such thing as a completely self-made person.

The person who proudly says, “I did it all myself,” had parents or grandparents or neighbors who kept them alive long enough to learn how to tie their shoes. Teachers taught them to read. Someone gave them their first opportunity. Someone built the roads they drove on and the schools they attended. Someone loaned them money, hired them, introduced them to somebody, bought what they were selling, watched their children, listened when things fell apart, or believed in them before they quite believed in themselves. Even our independence depends on other people.

We are not independent. We are interdependent. That is not weakness. That is how we work. In fact, it’s one of our primary evolutionary advantages: we survived because we learned how to do things together.

We come into this world needing somebody to hold us, feed us, protect us, and teach us. If we are fortunate enough to live a long life, many of us will leave this world needing other people again. And somehow, during the years in between, we convince ourselves that needing anyone is a character defect.

Grief has a way of exposing that illusion. There are losses too heavy to carry alone. There are days when we need somebody to call. Somebody to sit beside us without fixing anything. Somebody to bring dinner. Somebody to invite us out for coffee. Somebody who will listen while we tell the same story for the fifteenth time because today, for whatever reason, we need to tell it again. Needing those things does not mean you are failing at grief. It means you were never meant to carry this alone.

But even after we recognize that, there is still a problem. The people who love us may have no idea what we need. Your kids may not know you wish they would call more often. Your friends may assume you want to be left alone when what you really want is for somebody to say, “Want to grab a beer?” The person sitting across the sanctuary may be trying to give you space while you are wondering why nobody comes over anymore.

Asking Is Not Demanding

And now we arrive at the uncomfortable part. We have to ask.

For some of us, that is where all the old alarms start going off.

I don’t want to be needy.

I don’t want to impose.

What if they say no?

Shouldn’t they already know?

Maybe. But probably not. The people who love us are not mind readers. They have their own lives, their own worries, and their own assumptions about what we need—often based on what they think they would need in the same situation. Sometimes they are standing ten feet away wanting to help and genuinely having no idea what would actually be helpful.

Asking gives them a chance. And asking is not the same thing as demanding. A demand says, “You have to do this.” An ask says, “This would mean something to me. Is it something you can do?”

That difference matters.

“I miss hearing your voice. Would you call me once or twice during the week?”

“I’ve been feeling pretty lonely. Would you like to get coffee sometime?”

“I don’t need you to fix anything. Could you just listen for a while?”

“I know everyone is busy, but I’d really love to be invited when you all get together.”

“I’m having a rough day. Do you have twenty minutes to sit with me?”

None of those sentences guarantees a yes. That is the vulnerable part. The person may be busy. They may not understand. They may not be able to give us what we need. And yes, occasionally they may disappoint us. But if we never ask because we are afraid the answer might be no, we turn maybe into no all by ourselves.

There is another piece of this that matters. If you ask for what you need and someone cannot give it, that does not mean your need was wrong. It means that particular person could not meet that particular need at that particular moment. Those are very different things.

Maybe your daughter cannot call every night. Maybe your friend cannot come over today. Maybe the person you hoped would understand simply does not have the capacity to understand right now. That can hurt. But you are still allowed to need connection. You are still allowed to want company. You are still allowed to ask someone else.

We spend a lot of our lives trying not to need anybody, hoping the people who love us will somehow figure out what we need without being told, and then feeling disappointed when they don’t.

Maybe the better way begins by accepting what we should have known all along: we need each other. Nobody does it all alone. Even billionaires have accountants, assistants, lawyers, drivers, builders, teachers, employees, doctors—and somebody fixing the plumbing when the toilet backs up.  The only difference is, billionaires put a lot of their interdependence on the payroll.

And when grief changes what you need—as it will—you do not have to apologize for noticing it, naming it, or asking someone to meet you there.

Remember

Asking is not demanding.
Nobody does it all alone.
We are made for each other.

One Step Forward

Finish this sentence:

“What I could really use right now is…”

Don’t worry yet about whether anyone can give it to you. Just name it.

Think of one person you could ask.

Then ask.

Consider This

What are you hoping someone will somehow know that you have never actually told them?

Until next week, remember: asking does not make you needy. It gives someone else a chance to show up for you.

Peace,

Tom

P.S. If someone came to mind while you were reading this, it’s OK to share it with them.