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I ain't Wonder Woman



I'd like to open today's post with a quick story from my college days. The date was August 21, 2011. I only remember this because it was the day my second niece Addison was born and I'd gotten a text about her arrival early that morning and I was so excited I couldn't fall back asleep. For those of you that don't know, I went to Kansas State University and was an ambassador for the College of Human Ecology my sophomore through senior years there. It was a really fun experience where I could pretend to be an extrovert, and nerd out about all the cool things that Human Ecology had to offer, before going back into my introvert bubble.

Anyway, this was on a Sunday I believe- shortly before or right around the time classes were going to start for the fall. We ambassadors were headed out to the low ropes course at K-State for some team-building activities on our retreat. I was the group's president for that year so I came ready to lead! conquer! win all the challenges!

Anyway, a couple of challenges in, they took us to this maze. "Oh great," I think to myself, "I hate mazes!".  The walls and boundaries of the maze consisted of 1/2 inch rope at about waist height so that you could slide your hands along the boundaries of the maze. Did I mention we were blindfolded? Yeah. More incentive to hate the maze.  So we get started, and there's about 15 of us so we bump into each other every now and then. "Do you know where you're going?", "NOPE!", laughter; is a common theme that could have been heard throughout.

I'm fumbling my way along, running into dead ends, turning around, trying to keep it peppy. Peppy President! Meanwhile, the facilitators are saying "feel free to ask for help!". A few group members of the group have already successfully completed the maze. "Those jerks" I mutter to myself, and keep puttering along. When I run into a facilitator and they say "Feel free to ask for help" I just say "Ok, well, I don't really know how you can help me!" or, "am I going in the right direction?". I was trying to maintain my pride while asking for a specific direction of help.

Time marches on, and a more ambassadors or "Jerks" (as I like to call them) make it out of the maze until I'm the last one left. Yep, just leave it to el presidente- bringin' up the rear! Still no end in sight for this girl and I'm frazzled. The facilitators try and keep their distance yet offer to help every so often. I mean, it's kind of humiliating. I'm supposed to be the freaking leader and here I am struggling with a stupid maze. Everyone is waiting on me.

Then, all of a sudden, it clicks! It's a trap! The maze is not really a maze! I pipe up with excitement- gasp- and say "Can you help me?!?!?!". Free at last! Those ambassadors that finished before me aren't the jerks! The facilitators are the jerks for putting me in this trap! Just kidding.

So what can we learn from this? Well, apparently, Clarissa is baaaad at asking for help. What's interesting is I'd always thought that I was pretty humble because of my clumsiness and lack of common sense. I'd be trying to unlock a door, not knowing which way to turn the key, let alone which key it was; and cry out/wait for someone to come rescue me. This was a very common theme for me in a) being a youngest child and b) working at a feedlot.

What else can we learn from this? Its okaaaay to ask for help. Or, in the words of Kacey Musgraves, "Baby I ain't Wonder Woman".

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Just look at her-she's so young! And strong! A goddess!. 

I often refer back to this "stupid maze" when in a situation where I need to ask for help. I also think about it when I get frustrated at the opposite sex for not asking for help. "If I ain't Wonder Woman, you sure ain't Superman! Gah!" I think to myself before semi-calmly approaching Matt or whomever and saying "It's ok to ask for help, ya know!".

We humans often struggle when it comes to asking for help. Why is that? I turned to Google, as one naturally does in 2018. I read three articles and found truth in each of them (links at the bottom of this page). However, there was one entitled "8 Reasons Introverts Might Find It Difficult Asking for Help" that really resonated with me. Although not all 8 points clicked with me, some of them were spot on. For example, I was brought up to be responsible and self-reliant. I hate being needy. I hate sounding whiny (although Matt would argue that I do that all the time, haha). If you have the time, I'd highly recommend reading one or all of the articles.

Anywho, to play Devil's advocate with myself; it's a two-way street. Another article I read said "be specific in your requests" which is exactly right. I can't just expect someone to magically read my mind and offer to take me to the grocery store exactly when I need to go. I gotta ask! Baby, you ain't Wonder (Wo)Men!

Long story short: asking for help is always a struggle- for everyone.

For me, the first seizure was humbling and really just embarrassing. Matt and I were watching Grey's Anatomy around that time, and every time someone would have a seizure on the show I would just shudder and think "I can't believe I did that in front of my executive board." 

 As you read in my last post, when people would ask about me later, I would often negate the effects of it and say "I'm fine!". Many times I just didn't want to talk about it or admit that it was a big deal, when in fact it made a huge impact on my life. The seizure was a reality check that I needed to look at managing my stress and say hey girl, "You ain't Wonder Woman". Cuss word. I had to swallow my pride, ask people for rides to go places just so I could function as an adult and do my job, or to have a social life. I had to come to Matt with my tail between my legs and tears in my eyes and ask, "can you please take me to the neurologist  in Topeka on December 4? I know my parents will, but it's out of their way, and it would mean a lot to me if you would come.". Or perhaps when I would ask Lauren to take me to the grocery store to shop for programs, during which we may often leave our office unmanned (cue, guilt trip) and cross my fingers that I'd bought enough food for the upcoming series so I didn't have to ask for a second trip. Maybe it sounds silly or trivial, but that's me. (Turns out, I lied in my first post and I was just pretending to be an INFP. Long story but I'm really an ISFJ. That is so much more accurate LOL. Oh man. Read about it at http://www.humanmetrics.com/personality/isfj   )

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Next time on This Epi(lepti)c Life: Episode 2! Get the scoop on my second seizure! Yayyyy.

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Introverts and Asking for help:  https://www.andymort.com/hard-asking-for-help/
New York Times "Why is Asking for Help so Difficult": https://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/07/business/07shortcuts.html

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