There’s a lot of talk about doing the ‘work’. About crafting the best versions of ourselves before we can finally accept ourselves. About being strong enough to go at it alone without putting our problems on anyone else. Only relying on the self.

I love self-help books. I love journaling. I love fixing myself. I love bettering myself.

I recently realised, this is a neverending process. I will always find things about myself I’d like to improve. I will always find areas of my life I feel could be better and never reach a point of feeling ‘fixed’. In one way, this is great because I feel in control and like I can always improve situations on my own without any help. But in another way, this is not so great because I am never accepting that things are okay as they are. That they don’t need to be better. That I am okay as I am and don’t need to be better. I am sometimes refusing help even though I am needing it because I believe I can handle it all by myself. Self-help.

I love the idea of being your own best friend. As cliche and cringe as it might sound, I believe it’s a great way to approach your relationship with yourself, rather than being a strict coach who is shining a light on your mistakes, speaking in a critical tone, never giving you a break & always looking for ways you can be better and ‘win’.

What does being a friend mean?

That’s the real question that is so individual. And maybe we should all spend some time sitting with this today. Explore what it means to you.

Something helpful to consider: what would a ‘true friend’ say to you in your moments of hardship?

Would they disappear? Would they talk about themselves? Would they distract you from the challenge – try convince you to go down another path? Would they motivate you to keep going? Would they laugh? Would they tell you to give up? Would they remind you of all you’ve done well in the past? Would they offer to help you out? Would they say ‘I believe in you’? Would they just sit and listen and say ‘it’ll be okay’?

I’ve been learning to go a bit easier on myself and accept help from others. I’ve been learning to admit this out loud without believing it’s a weakness. Without believing it means I am a failure. I’ve been learning to accept I will never be ‘fixed’ or reach a point of perfection. I have been learning to treat myself the way I treat a friend. It’s not always easy. But it’s feeling easier than entertaining this need to constantly fix myself and go at it alone.

It is not my responsibility to fix everything, everyone and every situation. It is not my responsibility to fix myself. There has been liberation in letting go a little and accepting myself. I have felt more content in my daily life as I choose to accept that I don’t always have to be the best version of myself to be worthy of love and connection and success. I don’t have to be perfect to speak in the spotlight. I don’t have to get it right. It is okay to be wrong, to mess up, to not know what’s best for me and to not always take life so seriously. I have felt more comfort opening up to my family and friends about my feelings. Leaning into the love around me rather than only trying to cultivate love within myself.

Rather than just doing ‘self-help’, maybe what we actually need is to open up, connect with others and say “help”.

Here is something I wrote last year called ‘You are not a burden’:

And maybe it would all be easier if I never mingled. If I didn’t get involved. If I shut myself off from those closest to me. If I always chose to do it by myself. For myself. If I stopped reaching out. If I shut myself off from people and sat with my thoughts instead. If I kept productive; producing. If I read the self-help books and worked on myself by myself. If I turned inward because you can’t rely on the outward. If I only experienced beautiful stories on paper. If I didn’t let my heart get tangled up in the unexpected meetings with strangers. If I stopped sharing. If I was quietly hurting, not burdening. If I didn’t answer the phone. Maybe this mess would be easier without letting others get tangled up in it, letting them trip over it and fall flat on their face in the midst of it. If my only job was to fix this and keep them away from this.

Maybe it would be easier to not let myself love and feel loved. Maybe leaving a place would be easier. I could slip away quieter. I could fall asleep on the plane without contemplating what this life and these people could have become. I could continue sheltering myself working for myself by myself on myself. Everything I’d have would be within my control, within me. A product of my creativity. I could convince myself that I am too much of a problem to be anyone’s problem. 

Maybe it would all be easier to go at this alone, but why does it feel so much harder?