As an enneagram two wing one, asking for help feels like going against every fiber of my being. I am the caretaker, the helper, the one who recognizes and takes actions based on the needs of others. And on top of that, my blind spot is being highlight self-critical or insecure in trying times.

These last few days I have been learning (what I seem to be learning in perpetuity) that asking for help is not a measurement of worth or an indicator of failure.  

You see, last week I left Finley overnight for the very first time. I spent 3 nights in the Twin Cities at the 2019 Rising Tide Leader Retreat. It was an incredible experience, and also took every single ounce of energy I had. I came home and dragged myself through an infusion and realized I was in trouble.

My breathing was labored so my head was pounding. My arms felt like jelly. My vision was blurry. My jaw felt like it couldn’t chew. Myasthenia was rearing it's head. It wasn’t safe for me to be Finley’s primary caregiver because I could only hold her for a few minutes at a time. So after a few days away when all I wanted to do was snuggle my baby, I asked for help to take care of her. My parents and Travis took turns with feeding and playing and putting her down to sleep. They folded laundry, did the dishes, cooked up food. My dad brought me chocolate chip cookies. Cue a mess of gratitude mixed heavily with guilt and frustration and sadness. 

Those old doubts creeped back in—who am I to be a mom? Is it fair to Finley to have a mom with a disability? Because isn't my worth tied specifically to my ability to take care of others (hello my enneagram achilles heel)?

I’ve been thinking about how I could not do any of the things I do without help.  How could I have rallied to get through the retreat without team members pitching in and owning their roles, without the supportive texts from friends far away, without the hugs and whispers of "this was great" to know that it was worth it? In the absence of help, how could I ever be a family member or a team member or even an artist? 

At the retreat, I was struck by a common chord in all the talks in our lineup: fear, but community — self doubt, but you have power. The magic sauce is you. Sometimes you need a reminder that you have power and you don’t have to do it alone. Sometimes that power is realizing you can't do it alone. Sometimes that reminder is really unpleasant (like having no choice in the matter). It's also about realizing that help isn't a bad thing. Help is a human thing. 

In the words of Arielle Estoria, I have too much light to stay in dark places. So I am choosing to make the attitude adjustment, acknowledge that despite everything in me wanting to feel like a failure, I will ask for help and know that it is more than enough.