Finding Balance, Compassion, and Connection in Every Season of Life - Part 2

I Will Take Care of This Myself -On self-reliance, receiving support, and small sustainable change

Another lesson that has unfolded slowly over the years has been my relationship with self-reliance. For many of us, independence begins as wisdom. We learn to handle things ourselves. To be capable. To not need too much. To become helpers, achievers, caretakers, and problem-solvers.

For some of us, these strengths were built in seasons where depending on others didn’t feel possible or safe. Doing it all ourselves became a form of protection. And perhaps a form of love. Sometimes it evolves into over-functioning.

If we carry everything, anticipate everything, fix everything, and need nothing, perhaps we won’t be disappointed. Perhaps we won’t be let down. Perhaps we won’t find ourselves alone with the monsters again — whatever form those monsters took in our own stories.

Chaos. Criticism. Neglect. Unpredictability. Emotional loneliness. Growing up too soon.

The child parts of us learned an extraordinary lesson:

“I will take care of this myself.” 

And perhaps for a time, that lesson was exactly what was needed.

But healing invites a new possibility. That we can be supported. That we can rest. That we can ask for help. That strength and receiving are not opposites.

One of the unexpected gifts of healing has been discovering that being fully seen, fully known, and still loved changes something deep inside us.

To be accepted not for performing. Not for accommodating. Not for being useful. But simply for being ourselves. There is something profoundly healing about finding our people — our tribe — and allowing ourselves to belong without earning our place there.

Those experiences become medicine for younger parts of us that learned love was conditional, that acceptance depended on achievement, or that authenticity carried risk.

Those parts slowly begin to relax.

They discover that connection can be safe.

That support can be received.

That we were never meant to carry everything alone.

I’ve also discovered that sustainable change is usually much smaller than we imagine.

After enough books, programs, systems, and attempts to reinvent ourselves, many of us eventually discover that transformation often arrives quietly.

One small change. Then another. One more hour before breaking a fast. A few deep breaths beneath the trees. A walk outside. A conversation with someone safe.

Allowing an emotion to rise and fall without immediately distracting ourselves from it.

Small choices. Small moments of listening. Small acts of care repeated over time. This is often how trust is rebuilt. This is often how healing begins. The goal isn’t perfect balance.

There may never be a season where every slice of the pie is equal.

Life moves. Priorities shift. Needs change. The invitation isn’t perfection. The invitation is presence. To notice. To listen. To respond with kindness rather than criticism.

To stop “should-ing” on ourselves for being human.

As I write this, the sun is shining, the mountain is out, and I am reminded that balance isn’t something we achieve once and keep forever. It is something we return to. Again and again.

A Small Practice: The One Small Ask

The Life Pie Chart is a practice in noticing. This one is a practice in doing — a small, real-world experiment in letting yourself be supported, since that muscle often needs practice, not just awareness.

Sometime this week, notice a moment when your instinct is to handle something entirely on your own.

1. Pause before jumping in. Just one slow breath.

2. Ask yourself quietly, “Does this have to be mine alone, or am I choosing that out of habit?”

3. Pick one small piece of it — even a tiny piece — and let someone else hold it. Ask a genuine question. Request help with a task. Or simply say what’s hard out loud instead of quietly solving it yourself.

4. Notice what happens in your body as you do this — a tightening, a wave of guilt, an unexpected relief. Whatever shows up, let it just be information, not a verdict on you.

5.  At the end of the week, ask yourself: What did I learn about what it’s like to be helped?

This isn’t about becoming less capable. It’s about discovering that strength and being supported were never opposites to begin with.

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And if you find yourself in a season that feels particularly heavy, uncertain, or transformative, remember that you don’t have to navigate it alone.

Whether through Spiritual Transformation or EMDR Intensives, sometimes having a compassionate guide and a safe place to process can make all the difference.

There are seasons for standing strong on our own two feet, and there are seasons for allowing ourselves to lean into support.

Both are part of being human.

With Love and Light, Deanne