Yikes! For those of you who were expecting this yesterday, sorry for the delay. Due to a negligent gardener (not ours), our internet cable was severed. We didn’t regain internet use until just this morning. So here we are, a day late. Apologies!
Once, after I’d been separated from the starter husband for a couple of years, I lived with a dear friend in a rental townhouse.
By then, I’d sworn off men for several years. Eventually (finally) I was asked on a date and felt ready to go out with someone. Excitement ensued–at the possibility of meeting a new potential partner, of a dinner out, of feeling like a full human being again.
And then it hit me. The age-old pre-date dilemma:
I had nothing to wear!!
At the time, shortly after a split in which I’d lost virtually every penny I had, there was no option to head to The Bay (or even Target) and snatch up something new. I mentally worked my way through my closet three or four times, each time rejecting every piece of worn, tattered or simply ugly clothing.
I considered canceling the date.
A couple of nights before the scheduled rendezvous, my roomie and I lay on the couch watching TV. She got up, ousting one of the cats from its position on her lap and left the room, returning with a garment bag across her arm. Inside was a stunning new blouse, gold lace with tiny, flower-shaped metallic buttons.
“Here, I want you to wear this on Friday,” she said, proffering the bag.
I could barely speak.
“But–but–it’s brand new!” I sputtered. “You haven’t even worn it yet!”
“It’s not a big deal–I’ll wear it after. I don’t have any special occasion for it. And I think it would look great on you.”
I secretly agreed. It was a gorgeous piece of apparel. It would look great on anyone.
“I just can’t. . . “ I began. It felt too vulnerable to accept this kind of help. Especially because it was needed.
“Yes, you can,” she insisted. She pushed the bag back at me. “You’re going to look gorgeous. And have a great date.”
In the end, I did wear the blouse. I did feel great. And I did have a wonderful evening (though never heard from the guy again).
I was glad I’d accepted her generosity, which allowed me to feel confident on what was otherwise an awkward evening. And I am grateful to her to this day.
Yet I know without a doubt that, had she not offered it, I would never have asked for any help in the situation. I would have gone on the date wearing one of my own shabby outfits and felt undeserving through the entire evening.
It’s a good question: why do we refuse offers of assistance, when we know it would actually be helpful?
According to Psychology Today, there are four main reasons.
First, it might be pride. Accepting help means acknowledging the need for that help, thereby highlighting some kind of lack. (As in my case–my friend’s offer only made it more obvious to me my own dearth of anything decent to wear).
Second, and along the same lines, an offer of help might bring up feelings of inferiority, or the belief that we aren’t worthy of the aid.
Third, someone might equate the offer with an obligation to provide something in return at a later date. My friend’s offering was so generous and genuine that I understood I wasn’t obliged to provide my own “new blouse” some time down the road (though I do recall trading a new lipstick at a later date . . . ).
Finally, accepting help renders the receiver more vulnerable in future. If you accept something from another, that means you also uncover a certain vulnerability in yourself. A different person from my friend might have used the loan as ammunition later on: “But I lent you my blouse. Now I need grocery money and you won’t give it to me?”
I think of our sweet Chaser girl and how vulnerable she must have felt, gliding down the stairs not on her own volition, but under the impetus of two humans charged with her care. She knew acquiescing would make her entirely dependent on us, of course, yet she accepted our help nonetheless–which tells me she trusted we’d never abuse that power.
Once you’ve built a trusting relationship with your dog, they are willing to accept your help without question.
It’s true, Chaser did attempt to descend the stairs on her own a few times even after she lost the full ability to do so. But as soon as she understood she was no longer capable, she submitted without any struggle to our makeshift sling and the assistance of two more capable humans to carry her down.
It was obvious she didn’t enjoy it and that she would have preferred to get down on her own. But she appreciated the help, and took it willingly.
It’s been fascinating to watch a similar trust and acceptance develop with Zoey.
As a pup, she suffered a couple of eye infections within just two months. When the vet prescribed drops at first, we dutifully brought them home and attempted to administer them.
In case you’re unfamiliar with The Evolution of Zoey: she began life as a maniacal pup. She took a chunk out of both the HH and me (twice each) and was, basically, about as manageable as a bull in a china shop during an earthquake at the same time that aliens invaded the earth.
As you might imagine, that first attempt resulted in lots of ophthalmic drops on Zoey’s nose, muzzle, my shoes, my arm and basically sprayed all over the walls like a canine Jackson Pollock. Not one drop, however, actually made it into her eye.
Next, we tried a gel that came in a little tube, apparently easier to administer. No luck there, either.
Finally, I discovered I could dispense a drop of the gel on the edge of my thumb, which I’d deftly touch to her lower eyelid. Through trial and error and some luck, enough of the gel made its way into her eye and the infections abated.
Cut now to 2023 and another eye infection (this one from too much face-planting at doggie daycare). Zoey’s eye is clearly irritated, red and filled with pus. She wakes up writhing on the floor, rubbing it on the carpet or with her paw. She clearly needs some help!
I call her to me, ask her to sit. She does. I pull out the bottle of drops. No reaction. I speak in soothing tones, letting her know that this intervention is meant to help.
I tell her to stay still. She does. I reach down, pull at her eyelid to create a pocket of space, and quickly administer two drops into the eye. She blinks, shakes, and stares up at me with gratitude and love (okay, I made up the gratitude and love part. She’s really just waiting for the treat. But pretty good up to that point, right?).
Zoey knew her eye was bothering her; she knew I was there to help; she accepted the help. No drama, no second guessing, just honest appreciation for someone who cared enough to offer assistance.
One of my former coaches, after working for years as a business coach, switched gears entirely and built two programs on the premise that women have trouble receiving good things–whether help from others, compliments, gifts from the Universe, their financial worth–and has more than tripled her revenue as a result.
As humans, many of us do, indeed, seem to have difficulty gracefully receiving what’s offered to us. Whatever the source.
For the upcoming week, at least, let’s attempt to normalize this kind of receiving. It all starts with feeling you’re worthy of whatever goodies are offered.
So: own it, accept it, say “thank you”--and then enjoy the ride, the confidence, the comfort, or whatever else that gift might bring with it.
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Follow up to last week’s challenge: Give Others What They Need
This past week, I really attempted to give whenever and wherever I could. As it turns out, the timing was perfect.
I had been trying to meet with an online colleague for some time, to share some blog props that I’d used for many years back when I had a food blog.
Over the years, I collected a fairly wide collection of plates, bowls, cups and gasses to use in photo shoots. In fact, many of these cherished pieces made their way into the photos of my first traditionally-published cookbook, Naturally Sweet & Gluten-Free.
I knew my friend could use them now given her current business. Somehow, the stars aligned last week and we were able to meet up. She was incredibly grateful and loved the kitchenware. And I received a beautiful flowering plant in return.
While it can be tough to know what others might need, it’s always a good idea to offer it when you do have a clear sense of what might help. Another day, when I saw that a friend of mine was feeling low, I reached out to see how she was doing. That resulted in a fairly long conversation about a quandary she faced and how she might deal with it.
Reaching out felt good, even if I didn’t have a solution. In that situation, all she needed was a sympathetic ear, even though I couldn’t offer solutions. Sometimes, that’s all that’s needed.
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As always, thank you for reading. If you enjoy Be the Dog, please share it with someone else! Or support me and my writing with a paid or free subscription. I’d be eternally grateful either way.
I am prideful in this way. I should change this. I am strong enough to accept some help.