Hi there, I’m Aarti, Founder and Lead Counsellor at Incontact. Some people are exceptionally generous. They remember what matters to you and notice when something is wrong. They are the first to offer help, organise the get-togethers, make the introduction, and even sit beside you when things fall apart.
Yet when someone does something kind for them, they become strangely uncomfortable.
“It’s really not necessary.”
“I can manage.”
“You’ve already done so much.”
Or they accept the kindness, but immediately start thinking about how they can return it.
We tend to think of this as independence.
Sometimes it is. Sometimes it is something more complicated.
A client once told me that she found it much easier to be the person people came to than the person who needed something.
She liked being dependable. It gave her a sense of purpose and, if she was honest, a sense of security.
When a friend was struggling, she knew where she stood. She could do something. But when that same friend offered to help her, she felt unsettled.
Part of her worried about being a burden. Another part felt indebted.
And somewhere underneath both was a quieter thought:
What if I need her more than she needs me?
That was harder to sit with.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her friend.
It was that receiving placed her in a position she wasn’t used to occupying.
We often talk about giving and receiving as though they are simply two expressions of generosity.
Psychologically, they can feel very different.
Giving can give us agency. We decide what to offer. We choose when to step in. We can experience ourselves as useful, capable, and generous.
Receiving introduces uncertainty. Someone else is choosing to give to us. We don’t control what they feel, what they see in us, or what they may ask of us in return.
And this is where receiving can become uncomfortable.
For some people, accepting care quietly activates an old question:
What does this make me owe?
For others, it is:
What does this say about me if I need it?
And for some, perhaps the deepest question is:
Can I trust that someone will stay close to me even when I have nothing to offer them?
We can spend years becoming very good at being valuable to other people without learning how to simply be valued.
There is a difference.
If our sense of worth has become closely tied to what we provide, being cared for can feel oddly destabilising. It asks us to occupy a role we may not have practised enough:
not the helper,
not the strong one,
not the one who has everything under control,
but simply the person someone wants to care for.
Perhaps that is why receiving can feel more vulnerable than giving. It doesn’t necessarily make us less independent. It asks us to loosen our grip on being self-sufficient.
Tool 1 — Catch the reflex
The next time someone offers you help, a compliment, a favour or even their time, notice your first impulse.
Do you accept it?
Minimise it?
Refuse it?
Explain why you don’t need it?
Or immediately think about how you can repay it?
You don’t have to change anything yet.
Just notice what your mind does when care comes towards you.
Try accepting one small kindness without immediately balancing the scales.
Let someone buy the coffee.
Let a friend carry something for you.
Let someone do you a favour without finding one to return.
This isn’t about becoming dependent or keeping score less carefully.
It is about discovering whether a relationship can tolerate a little asymmetry.
Sometimes one person gives more today and the other gives more tomorrow.
Closeness doesn’t always keep perfect accounts.
Perhaps one of the quietest forms of intimacy is allowing someone to do something for you without turning it into a transaction.
To receive without earning.
To accept without immediately repaying.
To be cared for without having to prove that you deserve it.
For those who are used to being the capable one, this can take practice.
A life built entirely around being needed can leave very little room for discovering what it feels like to simply be loved.
With warmth and care,
Aarti ❤️