Actually, Asking for Help is a Skill
One of the biggest misconceptions I've ever believed was that asking for help should come naturally.
I thought people either did it well or they didn't. I assumed the people who reached out when they were struggling were simply wired differently than I was. Stronger, maybe. More open. More comfortable being vulnerable.
Actually, I think asking for help is a skill.
And like any skill, it has to be learned.
Most of us aren't taught how to ask for help. If anything, we're taught the opposite. We hear phrases like, "Figure it out," "Handle it yourself," or "Don't be a burden." Somewhere along the way, many of us learn that needing other people is something to hide instead of something to expect.
For some of us, that lesson starts long before adulthood.
Maybe we grew up believing we had to take care of ourselves because no one else would. Maybe we learned to stay quiet because speaking up didn't change anything. Maybe asking for help wasn't safe, or it wasn't answered, so eventually we stopped asking altogether.
After enough disappointment, independence can start to feel like survival.
I know it did for me.
There was a time in my life when asking for help felt more terrifying than continuing to struggle. Admitting I couldn't do it all on my own felt like admitting I had failed. I thought strength meant carrying everything by myself, even when the weight was crushing me.
But recovery has a way of challenging everything you thought you knew.
It taught me that healing doesn't happen in isolation. It happens in conversations. In honesty. In people who answer the phone. In meetings. In counselors. In friends who say, "I've been there too." It happens one uncomfortable conversation at a time.
That doesn't mean asking gets easy overnight.
Even now, there are moments when I catch myself thinking, I don't want to bother anyone. Or, I should be able to handle this myself.
Old beliefs don't disappear just because we recognize them. They lose their power because we practice something different.
I've learned that asking for help doesn't always have to sound dramatic. Sometimes it's as simple as telling someone you're having a hard day. Sometimes it's asking a friend to take a walk with you instead of sitting alone with your thoughts. Sometimes it's making the appointment you've been putting off or accepting an offer instead of automatically saying, "I'm fine."
Those small moments matter because they build confidence. The more we practice asking, the less shame we attach to it. The more we let people show up for us, the easier it becomes to believe that we're worth showing up for.
I've also learned something else: people usually feel honored when they're trusted enough to help. Think about how you feel when someone confides in you. Most of us don't see it as an inconvenience—we see it as an opportunity to care.
Why do we assume others won't feel the same about us? Maybe asking for help isn't a sign that you're falling apart. Maybe it's a sign that you're finally refusing to carry everything alone.
If you're reading this today and there's something you've been trying to manage by yourself, consider this your reminder that you don't have to earn support by reaching a breaking point first.
You don't have to wait until everything falls apart before you tell someone you're struggling.
Actually, asking for help isn't admitting defeat.
It's practicing trust.
And like any skill, the more you practice it, the stronger you become.
Actually Ashlie is a column that challenges common narratives and talks about the things we don’t always say out loud.
Ashlie Howard