It came to me on my walk today, and I came back and checked. It’s true but difficult for me to believe that in 141 posts I had not written about my desire to be self-sufficient, something I value and aspire to, and something that I am.
On airplanes, I don’t check my bag, so I’m often hoisting a 28-30 pound bag up into the overhead bin. Rarely does anyone offer to help, and I don’t ask for it. After all, I’m the one who packed all those pounds and chose not to check. It’s my responsibility to hoist.
I don’t like asking for help. I’ve read that there’s value in it, but I still don’t like it. I like to get my own drink and open my own door. I like being able to take care of myself.
Except when I’m sick. Then I like to be taken care of.