It’s Not Weak to Ask for Help: Why Seeking Support Is a Sign of Strength

You know what’s funny? Somewhere along the line, we started acting like asking for help is some kind of weakness. Like if you admit you’re struggling—whether it’s emotionally, mentally, or even just trying to assemble a piece of IKEA furniture—you’re somehow failing at life.

Spoiler alert: you’re not. You’re human.

And humans? We’re not built to do everything alone. We’re social, tribal creatures. We literally survived as a species because we helped each other. The idea that we’re supposed to go it all alone, like some stoic movie hero brooding in the rain, is... well, it's kind of ridiculous when you stop to think about it.

But I get it. Asking for help can feel hard. Embarrassing, even. Like there’s some imaginary scoreboard where admitting you’re overwhelmed deducts points.

Let me be real with you. There’s no scoreboard. And if there is, it’s probably being kept by your inner critic—the same one who still cringes over that thing you said in Year 9.

Here’s the truth: asking for help isn’t weak. It’s brave. It takes guts to raise your hand and say, “Hey, I’m not okay.” Or “Hey, I think I could use some support right now.” That’s not giving up—that’s showing up. For yourself.

I’ve had clients come to me carrying so much on their shoulders they’re practically hunched over from the weight of it. Anxiety, burnout, grief, old trauma that keeps showing up like an unwanted guest at a dinner party. And for the longest time, they didn’t tell anyone. Because they didn’t want to seem needy. Or broken. Or dramatic. Or whatever other label they were terrified of.

Then they finally booked a session. And halfway through, they’d say something like, “I don’t know why I waited so long to do this.”

And I get it. I’ve been there too. I’ve had moments in my own life where everything felt like too much, but instead of reaching out, I tried to muscle through it. Because I thought I should be able to handle it. Because I didn’t want to be a burden. Because I didn’t want to seem like I was falling apart.

But here’s what I learned the hard way: silence doesn’t make the pain go away. It just lets it fester. And putting on a brave face while you’re quietly unraveling inside? That’s not strength. That’s survival mode. It’s holding your breath underwater and calling it swimming.

Let’s be honest, life throws stuff at us. Big, messy, complicated stuff. Loss. Change. Exhaustion. That slow-burning stress that shows up as brain fog, or snapping at the dog, or suddenly crying because you can’t find your keys.

Asking for help doesn’t mean you’re broken. It means you’re wise enough to know that you don’t have to keep drowning in it.

And the thing is, help doesn’t always look like lying on a couch sobbing into tissues while someone nods thoughtfully at you. Sometimes it’s booking a session to clear out some of the mental clutter that’s been dragging you down. That’s literally why I created the Mental Detox.

Because your mind gets full. Just like a browser with 73 tabs open and music playing from somewhere you can’t locate. You need a reset sometimes. A mental tidy-up. And no, that’s not indulgent. It’s maintenance.

Think about it: we service our cars. We update our phones. We deep-clean the fridge when it starts to smell weird. But our minds? We just expect them to keep running smoothly, even when we’ve been running on empty for months. That’s not sustainable.

And I know some people are scared that asking for help means handing over control. That someone’s going to swoop in and tell them what to do, or how to feel, or make them talk about things they don’t want to touch.

Not with me.

My approach is gentle. No judgment. No lectures. No need to spill your whole life story if you don’t want to. I work content-free, which means you don’t even have to explain why you feel the way you do. We just get to work, giving your subconscious mind the space to sort things out in the background. Like a system reboot while you rest.

And sometimes, that’s all you need—a chance to breathe, recalibrate, and stop carrying things that were never yours to hold in the first place.

So if you’ve been feeling off lately—tired, anxious, stuck, numb—maybe it’s time to stop soldiering through it. Maybe it’s time to raise your hand. Not because you’re weak, but because you’re smart enough to know you deserve better than this low-grade suffering.

Let’s normalize reaching out. Let’s stop treating self-care like it’s optional. Let’s stop acting like needing support makes you any less strong.

Because guess what? Every strong person you admire has asked for help at some point. The people who seem to have it all together? They have mentors, therapists, coaches, friends. They’re not doing it alone. They’ve just made peace with the fact that needing others isn’t a flaw. It’s part of being real.

So yeah. It’s not weak to ask for help. It’s brave as hell. It’s standing in the storm and saying, “I could use a hand here.”

And if no one’s told you this lately: I see you. I’m proud of you. And I’ve got your back.

Whenever you’re ready, I’m here. You don’t have to explain or justify. You just have to show up.

Your mind deserves peace. You deserve peace.

Let’s get you there.

—Marc