Afraid to reach out …
Where I live, there is a support group for women who are
connected to the military. My dear friend founded the group, and I’ve long
thought that she and her mission are absolutely amazing. She reaches out to
women facing the challenges of being connected to the military – deployments, constant
absences, depression, PTSD, the fight to figure out or maintain your identity,
and so on. I strongly admire what she does, but I don’t participate.
I don’t go to the meetings or get involved or engage with
the other women in the group. Not because I don’t know or can’t relate to what
they are dealing with – though some of their struggles are far beyond any of
the hardships I’ve ever faced. And not because I don’t think the group is
important and valuable. I don’t go because I’m afraid I don’t belong.
My challenges pale in comparison to what some of these women
are dealing with. I feel okay, and my life is going well. So what can I
possibly offer? I’ve written before about feeling guilty for having my husband
home and whole and healthy – I worried that I could no longer relate to my
friends whose husbands are deployed, away constantly, or struggling with PTSD.
My mindset has always been that I needed to be in the ranks of the suffering in order
to reach out to them. It felt insensitive to go to these meetings when I’m
doing just fine or have never experienced the stress and frustration and pain
they are facing – especially in the military community, where suffering can
sometimes feel like a competition. That way of thinking has stopped me many
times from reaching out to women who are dealing with tough circumstances. It
has stopped me from participating in something that I believe is a good cause.
I never for a moment considered that, in the realm of
helping others, what’s going on with me,
where I’m at, doesn’t matter. It’s not about me. The same very wise
friend who founded the group gently pointed this out to me recently. She
explained that most people – no matter what problem they are facing – just want
someone to listen. They don’t want advice or answers, they don’t want to hear
about the time you went through the same thing, they don’t even want you to
tell them that it’s all going to be okay. They just want to be heard.
I hear all the time about the people who are afraid to step
forward and ask for help. But I’ve never even considered that there are people
who are afraid to give it, let alone that I might be one of them.
