Principle of the Week: Ask For Help
On the surface, it sounds easy: just ask for help. You’re overwhelmed. The workload keeps growing. The pressure is wearing you down mentally and physically. You even know exactly who could help — someone with the experience and expertise you need — and yet… you don’t ask. And you’re not alone. Studies show that 41% of U.S. adults feel uncomfortable asking for help, and it’s even higher among teenagers in grades 9–12, where 58% say they struggle to ask. So if asking for help is such a simple, reasonable request, why don’t we? For many, it’s the fear of rejection — What if they say no? For others, it’s fear of judgment — What if my question seems too simple or makes me look incompetent? And often, it’s fear of inconvenience — They’re too busy. I don’t want to bother them. I see this play out often, especially with newer agents who hesitate to come to me because they think they’re interrupting. I remind them: Helping you grow is never an interruption — it’s part of my purpose. Our fear — especially the imagined kind — keeps us silent. But silence doesn’t make us stronger. It limits our potential. --- In his book The Dance of Hope, Bill Frey tells of a day from his childhood when he tried to pull a pine stump out of the Georgia soil. At 11 years old, one of his chores was collecting firewood, and pine stumps were prized because their resin helped them burn better. One afternoon, he found the perfect stump and spent hours pushing, pulling, prying, and leveraging with a crowbar — yet he couldn’t free it. Exhausted and frustrated, he was still struggling when his father came home from work. After watching quietly, his father finally said, “Son, I think I see your problem.” Bill snapped back, “What’s that?” His father replied, “You’re not using all your strength.” Bill erupted — he had used all his strength. He had worked for hours. He insisted there was nothing more he could give. But after cooling down, he asked what his father meant. And his father delivered a sentence that changed everything: