Every Strength is a Weakness

The other day I took my dog to a park to play fetch. My German shepherd easily retrieved the ball, until I accidently threw it in a bunch of rocks. At first she tried to track it, but couldn’t find it. Instead of searching in vain or giving up, she simply established an eye contact with me. Hey mom, wanna help?Of course, I did. I was flattered that this animal, known for her superior sense of smell, put me on her team. In the end it was my dog that found the ball, but I helped her pick it up from under a rock. I had the fingers and fine motor skills that she lacked. It was good teamwork.

It wasn’t an isolated incident. Every time my dog needs help finding her ball or a stick, she looks at me for guidance and direction. It doesn’t seem to hurt her ego and brings good results. And then there is me, a human, with a supposedly superior brain in the animal kingdom, who more often than not chooses to go it alone. What does she know that I don’t?

In a nutshell, my self-sufficiency syndrome is likely a result of both nature and nurture. I am sure we are all born with certain predispositions and personality traits, which develop if conditions allow. I was definitely conditioned not to accept help with gratitude but rather with guilt.

Both of my parents were children of the WWII generation and didn’t get a lot of support from their families when they were young. They had to grow up fast. Being self-reliant was their survival strategy. They learned a lot in the process and acquired valuable life and trade skills. For the most part, their self-sufficiency has been their strength. They don’t owe anything to anybody and they are not a burden to anyone. If they can help you, they will, but they'd sooner use a paid service than ask for help themselves.

And that’s how they raised me and my brothers: if you can do it yourself, you should do it yourself. In other words, don’t ask for a ride if you can walk or take a bus. Seeking help was not what they modelled or encouraged. We had to help with chores, but that was viewed as being a part of the family.

For the most part, I am glad they taught me not to rely on others. It wasn’t easy at times, especially when I was young and could use more guidance and financial support, but being left to my own devices was a blessing in the end. I was able to test and prove myself in various situations and truly forge my own path with my own mistakes and successes. I had no one to blame for my failures and I could take full credit for my achievements. But sometimes I wonder how much more I could have done, how much easier my path would have been and how different my relationships would have been if I were able to seek and accept help without viewing it as a weakness or burden for others.

A simple example: a fellow mom offers to drive my son to a basketball game. It’s not a problem. She is taking her boy anyways. I only agree if I can return a favour or pay for gas. My son thinks I’m weird but I still insist on a gift card. Why do I always have to keep the score?

My dog didn’t worry if she could repay me. She didn’t overthink it. And I didn’t think less of her because she exposed her vulnerability. On the contrary- in my mind, we bonded more.

One of my husband’s favorite maxims is “Every strength is a weakness and every weakness is a strength.” It couldn’t be more true for self-sufficiency, which on it’s own is a great life-skill. But at the same time, if we all could go it alone, we wouldn’t need anyone. And that would be a sad and lonely world.