Yes, I will ask for help.

At about 11:00 on Saturday night, I was made aware that the truck I had planned to use for moving the last of my furniture (including my bed) to the O's house would, in fact, be unavailable. This presented me with a problem, as I don't have a truck myself and it's a weekend so finding a truck to rent would be difficult. Bugger. 

Another problem: I hate asking for help. I'm don't dislike it, I absolutely abhor it. People who are close to me don't understand this. I don't blame them. I don't always understand it myself. As a self-proclaimed woman of strength and confidence, it doesn't make sense that I would be crippled by the idea of seeking out assistance from family members or friends. But it's my reality. 

As I ponder it, I can think of several reasons for this. One, I like to feel self-able and enjoy being able to accomplish tasks on my own. I am a first-born with a type-A personality. Independence is coursing through my veins.  Two, I have a persistent and ever-nagging fear of rejection. Due to some issues in my past - including being told by a prominent figure in my life that the only reason I pursued a relationship with him was for his money - mixed with that Type A insanity, I find myself in a near-constant state of fear that people will say "no" or think badly of me for asking for their assistance. Three, I struggle with pride. It's an ongoing struggle, and not one that I will soon be able to release. It's an issue which I spend a considerable amount of time thinking about and probably not nearly enough time actually working through. 

Imagine being in a situation where you would need to ask President Obama if you can borrow $50,000 dollars from him. You are probably going to feel ridiculous, and be convinced that the outcome will be an answer of "no" and a laugh in your face if you can even get past the secret service. Then you figure the President is going to sit around the dinner table with his distinguished guests and talk about the diphthong who just came and asked him for money. The alternative is that he will graciously lend you the money, and possible even tell you to not worry about paying it back. But are you really going to put yourself out there for the chance of a "yes"? 

Every time I need to ask for help, I feel like the guy who is asking for the 50 grand, and the person I'm seeking out is the Prez. 

Over the past week, I had already stretched myself to ask for help from my mother and sisters with packing, from my grandparents to use their home as storage, and from several friends with loading and unloading boxes and small pieces of furniture. So when Sunday morning rolled around and I realized I was without my "paid" help, my stomach flipped. I couldn't leave my bed in the apartment for even one more night. I had limited options - one - rent a truck at a weekend rate and hope that I'd be able to afford it, or two - ask a friend with a truck for an hour of his or her time. 

I knew I'd have to suck it up and ask the Obamas for some help. I actually ended up asking my friend Megan and her husband, Danny, who graciously said "yes" without hesitation. They came with their pickup around 1:30 and loaded up my bed, dropped it off at the O's, and refused to accept anything but a thanks for their help. I felt a bit guilty about it, but those are issues to tackle on another day. 

After Megan and Danny left, I forced myself to think about reasons it's actually good to ask for help. Here's what I came up with: 

You learn humility. You build trust within the relationship. You give other people the opportunity to be a blessing. You learn humility. You give someone else the chance to redeem a favor. You broaden your perspective and gain insight into the lives of those who are unable to live independently. You validate the lyrics "people who need people are the luckiest people in the world." You learn humility. 

I don't love it. In fact, I still kind of hate it. But I think I am growing. I know that I am grateful for the people who put up with my stubbornness and my fierce independence to the point of recklessness at times. I am certainly grateful for those who continue to ask me to ask them for help, because they are contributing to my growth (and putting up with my annoyed attitude when they continue to ask.) There are times when I do push people away who want to help, and I am realizing that even when I am unhappy about not being able to "just do my thing" on my own, I am extraordinarily blessed.  There are billions of people in this world, and perhaps a sprinkling who have that kind of love and support surrounding them. 

I'm going to be mad that I have to ask for it, but thank you for your help.