Help!

I'm five as I wake up in the middle of the night from the itching, caused by measles, that drives me crazy. So I sneak to the bathroom and back for the menthol powder. My mother comes up to the light. 'Oh dear, you can wake me up anyway, and I'll help you,' she whispers. 'Why, I can do it quite well myself,' I respond proudly sitting on my bed to apply myself.

Doing it myself is nice, then I don't have to bother others.

And yet years later I call for help, twice, in broad daylight. Because I'm afraid I can't do it myself. As a fourteen year old I scream it at a busy crossroad while trying to break free from the grip of a stranger who is taking me against my will. As an eighteen-year-old, I whisper "help" in a crowded subway. I want to get away from the big, naked, sticky dick that a small man just shamelessly lifted out of his spotless white shorts to ride up to me.

Bystanders look over, laugh, pull dirty faces, take distance and continue on their way. Fortunately, my survival strength does not let me down. After the crossroad, we enter a forest where I give him such a hard knee that he falls to the ground, crawling. And once out of the subway I make a sprint into the central station to disappear in the crowd. 

Doing things yourself is nicer. You'd better not count on help from others, they look away if it doesn't suit them. 

Not just strangers on the street. Also colleagues at work where a 'boss' misuses his power, or acquaintances of children who are unfairly treated at home or at school. It's easy to pretend you don't see it, to save yourself discomfort, because you don't want to see it. But it is there! And you know that too. 

So dear notice and look away person, famous or not, as far as I'm concerned you are partly responsible for something that is far from okay. On the street, in the studio, at the office or at home, show some proverbial balls, ladies and gentlemen, and help. Even if you are not asked for help, even if it inconveniences you or is not the time for it.

Getting help, asked and unasked, is nice!

I experienced this, as fortunately as not, when I broke my back six years ago. Uninvited, patient Dennis, with his surgery drains in one hand, came and stood next to my hospital bed and made my sandwich because he saw how impossible that is when you are completely flat. 

I learned to ask for help by necessity and laughed the discomfort away with nurse Bob who interrupted his dinner to wipe my butt. Physio Joachim was the first to teach me how to do it again myself at home. I no longer sputtered, but enjoyed my favorite meals that my mother cooked and my father brought, even when the help was no longer necessary. They knew by now that I would not easily ask for it myself, but just offered it. As my back healed, my pride in accepting help broke. 

Giving help is nice. For the other person and for yourself.

So dear reader, stop snoozing and looking away. Take action as soon as your internal alarm goes off and step up. Show the courage to ask for help and offer help. 

I'm happy to help you. Can I also count on you when I need to?

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