Worthy

This post was originally written July 18th, 2021

I have this habit of taking twenty bucks cash out whenever I go to the grocery store and then it sits in my purse for weeks because I haven’t been going much of anywhere since the pandemic began. So occasionally when I’m out and about I’ll decide to give it to someone holding a sign at an intersection or leave an extra fat tip when I’m picking up carry out.

Today I placed a same day delivery order for a shelf at target so I didn’t have to lug it home myself, and I decided to leave my $20 in an envelope taped to my door for the delivery person with a note telling them I hoped they had an amazing day- and then I still left the usual tip on the shipt app.

The driver texted me a couple of times to say thank you, nearly gushing gratitude, to the point of it being almost uncomfortable. I could tell from the tone that it wasn’t just that it was unexpected, but that maybe they didn’t feel worthy of it. And my discomfort wasn’t just with being thanked so profusely, but that I recognized the discomfort of the recipient.

Earlier today I was telling someone about how my friend started a gofundme for me when I was at my rock bottom three years ago. I was in a health crisis, a housing crisis, and finally making the break from a very toxic marriage. And it made me think about how the outpouring of donations and love was such a life changing experience in teaching me how to receive.

It’s a phenomenon that I’ve noticed ever since that time, that some of the most generous people I know will absolutely not let themselves ask for help, or say yes to it when it’s offered. And I recognize what’s at the heart of it now, because I nearly let my shame stop me from agreeing to that gofundme .

Too many of us go our entire lives not feeling worthy of taking up space. We’ve been conditioned to believe that needing help proves it. That asking for help is fine for other people, but not for us. For us, the givers of the world, it means we are being a burden. And we already know what a burden we are. I would practically kill myself doing something physically challenging before I’d think to ask someone to help. And then, like that driver today, I’d gush in gratitude to the point of making the giver uncomfortable.

I still squirm and resist, but I’m better about it now. I learned during that season that most of the people were sincerely not feeling burdened by my need, but quite the opposite, my need gave them a chance to pay something forward that someone had done for them at some point in their own lives. And now when I give, it’s completely different experience. I don’t need to see their face light up or even be thanked. My heart lights up with my own gratitude. There’s no longer any sticky internal feeling of proving my worth, I simply get to pay it forward.

I would have never in a million years understood what it was like to step into that stream of life and humanity, if I hadn’t allowed myself to be vulnerable and say yes when the person that needed help was me.