When a Flat Tire Exposes Weakness
Photo by Simon Takatomi on Unsplash
DISCLAIMER: I am not a medical or mental health professional. Everything I share is information gained through personal experience, professional help, and outside resources. It is your own personal responsibility to seek professional help and advice before implementing any life-altering practices. Everyone's mental health journey looks different. My story is just one of millions. If you are feeling lost, scared, alone, concerned, or just not right, I encourage you to connect with a mental health professional. Don't wait until it becomes a crisis.
I'm sitting in my car on a side street, with my right rear tire elevated just slightly off the ground. My wheel is adorned with a giant hole, courtesy of a sharp right turn over unknown debris.
A request is submitted to roadside assistance, but is answered with an approximate two hour wait.
I'm slightly annoyed just sitting in my car. My husband is a mechanic - I should be able to change this tire on my own… but I can't. Not because I don't know how, but because I physically can't: machine-tightened nuts are no match for my weak arms.
And there it is: "weak."
Having a flat tire I can't change is weak. I can't look weak. I can't be weak. I can't accept help from the two strangers who offered it. Appearing weak means I'm a foolish, little girl who can't do anything. I need to appear strong, like I know what I'm doing, like I don't need your help. I can do it on my own.
But I can't.
I kill some time by trying the nuts again. They won't budge. I hide all the tools and spare back in the trunk. I don't want to appear helpless or incapable to anyone walking by.
Back in the driver's seat, I'm thinking about my pride; my need to appear strong; my fear of looking like I can't handle this little thing that happened to my car. I don't want to seem like I "need a man's help."
I want people to see me as competent, powerful, independent, and absolutely NEVER weak. I can do everything alone and on my own. I don't need you. I don't need anyone.
But I do.
We all do.
We all need others. We all need help. We all need to recognize and acknowledge the things we can't do. We all need to see our faults, weaknesses, failures. We need to admit them, and know that it's ok.
It's ok to be weak. Our weaknesses show us who we are, just as much as our strengths do. Weakness in ourselves creates the need for one another; creates the need for relationships; creates the need for connection.
Weakness provides opportunities for us to rely on each other, learn from each other, to make use of each other's strengths.
Finally, the spare is on, thanks to my requested professional assistance. I set off to drive home the long way, backroads, avoiding the highway. My hands are covered in dirt and grease, and my afternoon plans are no longer on the agenda.
But I am safe and smiling. I acknowledge and am grateful for the privilege of living in a place and status where I can call for help, and after a little time, it comes.
And I know that coming to terms with my weakness and accepting it is a strength all its own.
And yes, this brings new motivation to restart my daily pushup habit again tomorrow. 💪
By clicking “Subscribe,” you agree to receive emails from Rebekah Peluszak Design. You can unsubscribe at anytime by clicking “Unsubscribe” at the bottom of any message.
