#22: Why It’s So Hard to Receive And How to Practice Anyway
Getting better at letting others support you, even when it’s uncomfortable.
The “I’m Fine” Lie: Why Moms Can’t Let Anyone Help Us (Even When We're Drowning)
We’ll carry the weight of the world and still apologize for asking someone to carry the diaper bag. Why? Because somewhere between baby showers and burnout, we learned that accepting help = weakness. Spoiler alert: that’s a lie patriarchy, boomers and Pinterest sold you. It’s time to unlearn it and reclaim the radical act of letting someone else hold the damn baby (literally and figuratively).
1. You’ve Been Trained to Be the Giver, Not the Getter
Conditioning, culture, and the “good girl” nonsense that got us here.
Let’s just call it like it is: A whole lot of us were raised on a steady diet of “Be nice. Be helpful. Don’t ask for too much. Don’t be difficult. Don’t be loud. Don’t be needy.”
We were marinated in messages that told us our value was in how much we could offer others. Make them comfortable. Be the emotional support animal. Smile even when your insides are on fire. And God forbid you need anything in return.
Because here’s what’s real: Sustainable motherhood requires support. So does sustainable womanhood. You can’t keep giving from a bone-dry well. And no, martyrdom isn’t a personality trait. It's a trauma response.
Why This Is Hard (a.k.a. The Psychology Behind the People-Pleasing)
This isn’t just about manners - it’s about survival wiring. Psychologists call it “fawning” - a trauma response where we appease, accommodate, and over-serve to stay safe, wanted and accepted. And for many women, especially those raised in environments where love felt conditional, being the giver became their way of earning approval.
We internalized the belief that love must be earned. That we have to do to be worthy. That needing help makes us weak. But here’s the kicker: Needing others is part of being human. It’s not a flaw. It’s a fact. And let me lovingly shake us into reality - we would never tell our kids, “Don’t ever ask for help, sweetheart. Be independent at all costs.” So why tf do we do it to ourselves?
Realistic Ways to Unlearn the “Only Givers Get Loved” Lie
These aren't fluffy “just love yourself more” tips. These are gritty, doable shifts for moms who are healing in the middle of the chaos.
Track The “Default No” Moments: Start noticing when you reflexively say no thanks or I’m good when someone offers help. Was it really because you didn’t need it or because you felt bad accepting it?
Try this: Write down three moments this week when help was offered (or could have been), and how you responded. Reflect without judgment.
Create A Safe-To-Receive Space: Pick one person; maybe your partner, a friend, a sister, your mama - who feels emotionally safe. Let them know you’re working on this, and practice accepting help from them on purpose. No apologies, no quick “I’ll get you next time,” just a plain old thank you.
Try this: “Hey, I’m trying to get better at receiving without guilt. If you ever offer help, and I weirdly say no, remind me I’m allowed to say yes.”
Reframe Help as Love (Not Burden): What if receiving wasn’t inconveniencing someone but inviting them into a deeper connection with you? Think of the people you love helping. That same energy? Others want to give that to you.
Try this mantra: “I let people love me by letting them show up for me.” Write it on your mirror. Say it before you say “no.” Let it sink in.
2. Control Freak Status: Why Receiving Feels Risky
If someone else does it, will it be “right”? Will it fall apart? Will you?
Let’s talk about that clenching in your chest when someone says, “Hey, let me take care of that for you.” Because your brain immediately screeches: “But will they do it right? Will they do it my way? Or am I going to have to go behind them and fix it… AGAIN?!”
Welcome to the Control Freak Club. Population: Basically every mother I know.
Look, I get it. You didn’t want to become this person. You didn’t come into motherhood thinking you’d one day be silently cursing your partner for loading the dishwasher like an untrained raccoon. But here we are.
Why This Is So Damn Hard (a.k.a. The Neuroscience of “My Way or the Highway”)
There’s real science behind this. The human brain craves predictability. We’re wired to seek out patterns and routines because it helps us feel safe. When you do things yourself, you know exactly how it’ll turn out vs. when someone else does it… there’s uncertainty. And our brains interpret uncertainty as a threat. Which triggers anxiety. Which triggers controlling behaviors; a.k.a. The “control freak syndrome” we’ll call it.
It’s not because you’re a bossy bitch. It’s because your nervous system’s on high alert.
Plus, let’s not forget the stakes: moms carry the mental load. We’re the keepers of the invisible lists - doctor appointments, kid allergies, which sippy cup is acceptable today. Letting go feels risky because if something gets missed, guess who’s getting blamed?
Realistic Ways to Release the Death Grip on Control
I’m not gonna tell you to just “let go.” That’s like telling a cat not to knock things off the counter. Instead, let’s start small, practical, and real.
1. Pick One “Low-Stakes” Task to Delegate: Start with something that won’t set your hair on fire if it’s done “wrong.”
Folding towels? Who cares if they’re shaped like origami?
Loading the dishwasher? Let it go.
Running a quick errand? Let them handle it—even if they come back with four kinds of mustard.
Try this: Make a list of 3 tasks that stress you out least to delegate. Pick one this week. Don’t hover. Don’t “fix” it after.
2. Make a “Good Enough” Mantra: Your perfectionist brain needs a new script. Try saying (out loud if necessary):
“Done is better than perfect.”
“It doesn’t have to be my way to be okay.”
“This is not a crisis. It’s just dishes.”
These mantras help break the loop of catastrophic thinking that makes every tiny task feel life-or-death.
Try this: Write your chosen mantra on a sticky note and slap it on your fridge. Let it glare at you every time you want to re-fold the laundry.
3. Practice the Post-Delegation Pause: Here’s the trick: When someone finishes helping, fight the reflex to critique or redo it immediately. Instead:
Thank them genuinely.
Take three deep breaths.
Sit with the discomfort.
Try this: The next time your partner “helps” and it’s not perfect, count to 10 in your head. Repeat: “It doesn’t have to look my way to still be loving.” Because guess what? Constantly “fixing” other people’s efforts trains them to stop trying. And that’s how you end up doing everything yourself forever.
3. You Tie Your Worth to Your Output (Let’s Untangle That Mess)
You are more than what you get done or how many people you served today.
Okay, buckle up, because we’re about to talk about one of motherhood’s biggest, sneakiest mind games: the belief that your worth = how much you do/get done for everyone else.
If your brain has ever whispered:
“I should have done more today.”
“I’ll rest once everything’s done.”
“If I’m not constantly productive, I’m failing.”
… congratulations, you’ve been tricked. Hoodwinked. Bamboozled by hustle culture and centuries of patriarchal nonsense.
Here’s the raw truth, friend: You are worthy because you exist. Period. No checklists, no medals, no gold stars required.
Why This Belief Is So Damn Sticky (a.k.a. The Psychology of Overdoing)
Psychologists call this contingent self-worth - when how you feel about yourself depends on what you achieve, how “useful” you are, or how much you can prove your value to others.
Studies show people with contingent self-esteem:
Have higher anxiety and depression rates.
Experience chronic stress and burnout.
Feel worthless if they can’t “perform” perfectly.
Motherhood cranks this problem to eleven because our culture still glorifies the “selfless, endlessly giving” mom who:
Packs Pinterest lunches.
Never complains.
Doesn’t “need” anything.
Does everything for her family with a giant smile on her face.
It’s pure BS. And it’s why so many of us are sobbing in the shower, wondering why we’re so empty while running ourselves ragged.
Realistic Ways to Start Unhooking Your Worth from Your Output
This is deep work but it doesn’t have to wait until the kids graduate or you get a week at a silent yoga retreat. Here’s how to start untangling this mess in real-life, mom-sized ways.
1. Check Your Inner Narrator: The first step is catching the sneaky voice that links your value to productivity. When you hear them, don’t scold yourself. Instead, gently challenge them.
Listen for thoughts like:
“I should be doing more.”
“I don’t deserve rest.”
“If I can’t keep up, I’m failing.”
Try this: When you catch yourself thinking, “I didn’t get enough done today,” ask:
“Is that true… or just a story my brain is telling me?”
“Would I talk to my best friend this way?”
2. Replace “Productive” with “Present”: Your kids don’t remember whether you folded the laundry perfectly. Presence matters more than perfection. They remember:
You sitting on the floor playing blocks.
Laughing until juice came out of your nose.
Reading bedtime stories in your best silly voice.
Try this: Once a day, abandon your to-do list and do something totally unproductive with your kids or by yourself. Even ten minutes counts. Let it feel luxurious, not guilty.
3. Celebrate Rest Like a Win: We log steps. We track calories. We obsess over productivity. Start tracking your REST like it’s equally important - because it is. Rest isn’t “extra.” It’s maintenance. Without it, everything else falls apart.
Try this:
Write “rest” on your to-do list and check it off when you take it.
Brag to your friend group when you take a nap instead of folding laundry.
Set an alarm for 10 minutes of nothing - no phone, no chores, no fixing
4. Refusing Help Is Costing You More Than You Think
Overwhelm, resentment, and disconnection are the price of martyrdom - and girl, it’s too expensive.
Here’s the thing nobody tells you when you become a mom: there’s a hidden tax on saying “I’m fine” when you’re absolutely not fine. Every time you decline help, you pay the price in exhaustion, resentment, and emotional distance from the people who’d actually love to show up for you.
We keep refusing help because we think it makes us noble. Strong. Capable. A “good mom.” But newsflash: the cost of that badge of honor is sky-high and you’re footing the bill with your physical and mental health.
Why It’s So Damn Costly (a.k.a. The Psychology of Martyr Mode)
Let’s break this down:
Emotional Burnout: When you insist on doing it all, you end up drained, frazzled, and one spilled juice box away from a full-blown meltdown. Research shows chronic stress and emotional labor significantly increase the risk of anxiety, depression, and even physical illness (American Psychological Association, 2019).
Resentment Grenades: You tell everyone you’re fine, but then secretly seethe because no one helps. Meanwhile, the people in your life are like: “But… you said you had it under control?” That’s how resentment builds and it’s toxic to relationships that accompany it.
Disconnection: Refusing help sends an unspoken message: “I don’t need you.” Over time, people stop offering. You feel isolated. They feel pushed away. And suddenly everyone’s in their own lonely corner wondering what the hell happened.
Realistic Ways to Stop Paying the Price of Refusing Help
Here’s the good news: You don’t have to stay stuck in martyr mode. You can practice letting people in without feeling like you’re betraying your entire personality.
1. Keep a Resentment Radar: Start paying attention to when you feel a quiet “Why does nobody help me?” rage simmering under your skin. That’s your inner truth knocking.
Try this:
Each night, write one sentence: “Today I felt resentment when ______ because I actually needed ______.”
Notice the patterns. That’s where you need support.
2. Phone a Safe Friend and Practice Receiving: Find one person you trust who won’t judge you. Tell them:“I’m working on letting people help me. Can I practice with you?” Let them do something small. No apologizing. No “I owe you one.” Just thank them.
Try this:
Let a friend drop off a meal.
Let them listen without offering solutions.
Let them watch your kids for 30 minutes while you hide in your car with some lunch and a fresh coffee.
3. Use the Car Cry as a Wake-Up Call: We all know the car cry - the one where you finally let yourself sob in the grocery store parking lot or you driveway because it’s the only place no one’s yelling “MOM!”
Instead of chalking it up to “just being tired,” treat it as your nervous system waving a giant red flag: “I don’t have to do this alone.”
Try this:
Keep a note on your phone titled “People Who’d Help If I Let Them.”
Next time the tears come, pick one name and ask for something small.
5. Model Receiving for the Tiny Humans Watching You
Your kids are learning how to receive by watching you either do it… or refuse to.
Last but definitely not least, time for some real talk that might sting just a smidge:
Your kids are not listening to what you say as much as they’re watching what you do.
So if you’re out here preaching: “It’s okay to ask for help!” …but your kids never see you actually accept help, guess what lesson they’re absorbing?
That real grown-ups power through, refuse help, and only cry privately in the bathroom. But here’s the powerful flip side: You have the incredible opportunity to show your kids that:
It’s safe to need others.
Asking for help is brave, not shameful.
Connection, not perfection, is what makes life sustainable.
And THAT, my friend, is cycle-breaking work.
Why Modeling Receiving Matters (a.k.a. The Science of Social Learning)
Psychologists call this social learning theory (Bandura, 1977). Basically: Kids learn how to handle life not just by hearing instructions, but by watching how you navigate yours.
If you:
Apologize for needing help…
Downplay your exhaustion…
Refuse support while obviously needing it…
… your kids learn that’s what “strong” looks like.
But if you:
Let people help you…
Say “I’m tired, and I’m going to rest”…
Receive kindness without guilt…
… you’re showing your kids that being human means leaning on others—and that’s not just healthy. It’s heroic.
Realistic Ways to Model Receiving for Your Kids
Let’s make this real and doable—because you’ve got sticky fingers on your yoga pants and someone screaming about snack time.
1. Narrate Your Receiving: Kids don’t always connect the dots. Spell it out for them.
Try this:
“Mommy’s friend brought us dinner because she cares about us. Isn’t that so kind?”
“Daddy helped me clean the kitchen tonight so I could rest. I’m so thankful.”
It normalizes that grown-ups help each other. No shame attached.
2. Let Your Kids Help You—Even If It’s Messy: Your instinct might be to say, “No thanks, sweetie, Mommy’s got it.” But letting your kids help is giving them practice in being part of a supportive family system.
Try this:
Let them stir the spaghetti sauce—even if some lands on the ceiling.
Ask them to bring you water if you’re tired.
Say “Thank you so much—that helped me!” even for the smallest thing.
It builds their empathy muscles and shows that giving and receiving is a normal, healthy exchange.
3. Model Rest Without Guilt: One of the most powerful things you can do for your kids? Let them see you stop. Without apologizing. Without shame.
Try this:
“I’m feeling tired, so I’m going to lie on the couch for a few minutes. Want to read next to me?”
“Mommy’s taking a break because rest helps me feel good.”
This teaches kids that it’s normal to need downtime—and that it’s not earned only after hustling yourself into dust.
Recap:
You’ve Been Trained to Be the Giver, Not the Getter: We were raised to believe needing help makes us weak, but the truth is: receiving support is a radical act of self-preservation - and you deserve it.
Control Freak Status: Why Receiving Feels Risky: Letting go of control feels terrifying because uncertainty triggers anxiety, but the dishwasher loaded “wrong” is not an emergency; sometimes good enough is great.
You Tie Your Worth to Your Output (Let’s Untangle That Mess): You are not only valuable for what you do; your worth isn’t measured by productivity or perfect parenting, but simply by being human.
Refusing Help Is Costing You More Than You Think: Saying “I’m fine” when you’re drowning leads to resentment, burnout, and isolation and costs way more than just accepting the damn help.
Model Receiving for the Tiny Humans Watching You: Your kids are learning how to ask for help by watching you; modeling-receiving teaches them that being human means leaning on others without shame.
Gentle Reminders:
You are not weak when you ask for help.
Your way isn’t the only right way. It’s just the way you’re used to.
You are enough, even on days when you don’t accomplish a damn thing.
Rest isn’t earned. It’s a human right.
Your kids will survive the unfolded laundry. They need you, not your perfect output.
Letting people help doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re wise enough to protect your energy.
The people who love you want to show up - but they can’t read your mind.
You are not just raising kids. You’re raising future adults who deserve to know it’s safe to lean on others.
Breaking generational patterns is exhausting - but holy hell, it’s worth it.
Refusing help might make you feel strong in the moment. But in the long run, it leaves you depleted, resentful, and disconnected from the very people who’d love to stand in your corner.
You’re not just saying yes for you—you’re saying yes for the tiny humans who are learning what it means to be human.
What resonated with you the most today?
What’s one small way you’re going to practice receiving help this week?
Or, what’s one “I’m fine” moment you’re ready to stop faking?
Drop it in the comments, DM me, or write it in your journal.
Let’s help each other stay accountable and remind each other we don’t have to do this alone.
If you found this post helpful, be sure to check out my other tips on self-care for busy moms, or browse my full collection of motherhood hacks to make life a little easier! Thank you so much for reading, remember to follow me on all my socials and don’t forget to subscribe to my website to be the first to read my weekly blog.
If no one told you today, you are an amazing mom and I see you. You wouldn’t be reading this blog if you weren’t and I am SO proud of you. Keep loving yourself too, mama.
With Love, Caitlin Nichols
