Kylie P.
Photography by Julia Thompson
If you’re reading this, asking for help is an admittance of strength, not weakness.
I am an incredibly competitive person. I often find myself in perfectly normal situations feeling the need to do the “best,” whatever that means. One thing about perfectionists is they are very bad at asking for help.
I’ve had struggles with my mental health since before I can even remember. Because I started feeling these emotions at such a young age, I began to think they were just a part of life. But boy did that part of life suck sometimes.
Like I said before, I am a staunch perfectionist. One of my biggest fears is someone perceiving me as weak - when you’ve been told you’re strong your entire life being weak becomes a terrifying fate. It took me a long time to realize that being vulnerable was different than being weak. It took me even longer to realize that being weak and admitting you may need help are two very different things.
As the eldest daughter, straight-A student, class president, and multi-sport athlete on the path to attending her dream school, you get used to getting things done and getting them done right. You also get used to getting them done alone. As I got older, asking for help in any capacity felt like an admittance of failure. I had always gotten things done myself, so why would I ever change that? I locked myself into a jail cell of self-sufficiency and threw away the key.
It seems obvious when it’s written down, but if no one knows you’re struggling, they will not know how to help. I had spent years convincing myself that if I didn’t tell anyone what I was dealing with I’d be safe from judgment. The thing is when you keep things from your loved ones they know something’s wrong whether they tell you or not. But if you’re not willing to be vulnerable they only see the irritation and the outpour of emotions over seemingly nothing. They see the result of the struggle without understanding the struggle is present.
I remember the day I first admitted I was struggling like it was yesterday. While on a visit to my pediatrician in middle school, my lifelong doctor came in with a concerned look on his usually smiling face. My mental health screening reflected some changes. Sometimes I wonder if that was my subconscious finally realizing it was time to be real with someone. I sheepishly admitted that I was not doing well. Not well to the point where I was finally pushed to a place where I was ready to ask for help.
I’m not going to sit here and say that the openness I have learned since that day at the doctor’s office has completely healed me. I have bad days, as we all do. The difference now is that I know admitting I need help is not a weakness, but a strength.
I now know how to fight back when my brain is trying to bring me down. I have regained control over my emotions. I never would’ve learned how to do that if I hadn’t dared to admit I was struggling.
So, if you’re reading this, asking for help is a strength. Allowing yourself to lean on other people the way you let so many lean on you is a gift. Please start to understand that you’re worthy of taking it.
Kylie P., University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
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