Don’t let phrase ‘I’m fine’ become a form of selfishness

Being a giver is part of my identity. I bake for friends; I serve on committees; I host events; I bring homemade meals to those going through hardship or recovering from illness; I make time to lend my expertise, a listening ear, or offer assistance to friends, family and colleagues.

I also love giving gifts. If you’ve heard about those people who enjoy giving gifts more than receiving them, that’s me at the top of the list.

Indeed, giving to others is one of my favorite feel-good activities.

It wasn’t until I was going through a hard time that I learned about the beauty of being on the other side of the giving continuum: receiving.

Many years ago, when my father was dying, a friend wanted to organize a meal train. “No,” I said. “I don’t need help. I’m the one who does that for other people. I’m fine.”

But I wasn’t fine. And she knew it. (Can we hear it for good friends who see through our facades?)

Then she said something that had a profound effect on me and instigated a paradigm shift that has been blessing me ever since. “I’m going through a hard time right now too, and it would really help me if you’d let me be of service in this way. Please let me help you?”

And just like that, it hit me. My insistence on being “fine” and saying “no” was actually a form of selfishness.

Clinging to my identity of giver and refusing the help was selfishly robbing my friends of the opportunity to channel their love and concern into something actionable. And boy could I relate to wanting to help a friend in need.

That day, I opened the floodgates of love and community by saying a magic three-letter word.

I was moved to tears by the first delivery. Instead of bringing a meal, a friend went grocery shopping. She tried to imagine what I might need, then bought it for me. How did she know I was out of strawberries and milk? I was so overwhelmed at the time I didn’t even know how to ask. With friends like that, I didn’t need to.

Each evening, we enjoyed the adventure of discovering what was for dinner when we opened the bag at our front door. I am blessed that my children were able to witness the power of friendship and community at a young age.

As my family and I lived through those wonderful and heart-wrenching weeks receiving love in the form of meals, a knowing came over me, and I finally understood that giving demands reciprocity. If nobody ever says yes to receiving, then there can be no giving. How awful would that be? And, if we insist on always being the giver, we rob ourselves of experiencing both sides of this beautiful cycle of grace.

So what is it that makes us so unwilling to accept help?

Perhaps it’s partially cultural. We’re all supposed to have it all together, juggling our various roles of work, family and community while getting in our 30 minutes at the gym, cooking our organic meals and serving on our committees. Saying yes to help means admitting to a crack in the armor.

But you know what? I hate armor. It’s heavy, it’s uncomfortable, and it makes me sweat.

Having it all together is overrated. Being authentic is where it’s at.

Working on my receiving muscle these past years has produced many gifts. I began to recover from my perfectionism and let life be a bit messy. I can now slow down enough to enjoy the small moments that are almost always life’s memories in the making.

During this Valentine’s month, I wish for us all the gift of allowing in the love, friendship and community that is knocking at our door, just waiting for us to crack it open and invite it in.

We’re all supposed to have it all together, juggling our various roles of work, family and community while getting in our 30 minutes at the gym, cooking our organic meals and serving on our committees. Saying yes to help means admitting to a crack in the armor.