Ever catch yourself automatically saying “I’m fine” when someone asks how you’re doing, even when you’re drowning in stress?
Yeah, me too.
For years, I prided myself on being the guy who never needed anyone. Financial struggles in my family taught me early on to be resourceful and handle things myself. I watched my parents navigate tough times while keeping our family stable, and somewhere along the way, I internalized that asking for help meant being weak.
But here’s what I’ve learned: being emotionally self-sufficient for too long can actually become its own prison. You become so good at managing everything alone that you forget other people exist to support you, not just the other way around.
If you’re reading this and thinking “I don’t need help from anyone,” well, that might be exactly why you should keep reading.
1. Your default response to “How are you?” is always “I’m fine”
No matter what’s happening in your life, those two words roll off your tongue automatically. Lost your job? “I’m fine.” Going through a breakup? “I’m fine.” Haven’t slept properly in weeks? “I’m fine.”
The phrase has become such a reflex that you say it even to close friends who genuinely want to know how you’re doing. You’ve trained yourself to deflect so well that opening up feels like speaking a foreign language.
I used to do this constantly. Even when I was in my mid-20s, feeling completely lost despite doing everything “right” by conventional standards, I’d still tell everyone I was fine. It took moving to Southeast Asia and completely rebuilding my life to realize how isolating this habit had become.
2. You give advice but never take it
Friends come to you with their problems all the time. You’re the wise one, the stable one, the one who always knows what to say. But when someone offers you advice? You smile, nod, and immediately dismiss it in your head.
You’ve become so accustomed to being the helper that receiving help feels uncomfortable, almost wrong. You rationalize it away: “They don’t really understand my situation” or “I’ve got this handled.”
In my book, Hidden Secrets of Buddhism: How To Live With Maximum Impact and Minimum Ego, I explore how the ego often disguises itself as self-reliance. Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is admit you don’t have all the answers.
3. You’ve become the master of solving problems alone
Got a flat tire? You’ll figure it out. Computer crashed? You’ll spend hours troubleshooting before even considering calling tech support. Feeling overwhelmed at work? You’ll just stay late and power through.
This isn’t just about practical problems either. Emotional challenges get the same treatment. You journal, meditate, exercise, do whatever it takes to process things solo. While these are healthy coping mechanisms, they become problematic when they’re your only mechanisms.
4. Vulnerability feels like speaking another language
Opening up about your struggles feels almost physically uncomfortable. Your throat tightens, your mind races for ways to change the subject, and you default to humor or deflection.
I remember when I first started writing about my social anxiety. Putting those words on paper felt like walking naked through Times Square. But here’s what surprised me: the vulnerability I practiced in my writing eventually made it easier to be vulnerable in person. Still, it took years to get there.
When you’ve been self-sufficient for too long, vulnerability feels like betrayal of the strong persona you’ve built. But that persona is exhausting to maintain.
5. You cancel plans when you’re struggling
Rather than show up as less than your best self, you’d rather not show up at all. When you’re going through something difficult, your instinct is to hibernate until you’ve sorted it out.
“Sorry, can’t make it tonight” becomes your go-to text when you’re not feeling mentally or emotionally stable. You tell yourself you’re protecting others from your problems, but really, you’re protecting yourself from having to admit you have problems.
6. You feel guilty when people do things for you
Someone offers to pick up groceries when you’re sick, and instead of feeling grateful, you feel guilty. A friend pays for lunch, and you immediately calculate how to pay them back. A colleague offers to help with a project, and you insist you’ve got it covered.
This guilt stems from a deep-seated belief that you should be able to handle everything yourself. Accepting help feels like admitting defeat, like you’ve failed at the one thing you’re supposed to be good at: being independent.
The Buddhist concept of interdependence, which I explore in Hidden Secrets of Buddhism: How To Live With Maximum Impact and Minimum Ego teaches us that nothing exists in isolation. We’re all connected, and needing others isn’t weakness, it’s reality.
7. Your problems feel too complex to explain
When someone asks what’s wrong, your mind immediately thinks, “Where would I even begin?” Your problems feel so layered, so specific to your situation, that explaining them seems impossible.
So you don’t.
You’ve convinced yourself that nobody could possibly understand the intricacies of what you’re dealing with. This becomes a convenient excuse to keep everything bottled up. But here’s the thing: you don’t need someone to understand perfectly. Sometimes you just need someone to listen.
8. You’re uncomfortable with emotional support
Physical help? You might accept that grudgingly. But emotional support? That’s a hard no.
When someone tries to comfort you, you stiffen up. Hugs feel awkward. Words of encouragement make you want to change the subject. You’d rather deal with your emotions in private, where nobody can see you being “weak.”
This discomfort often stems from childhood experiences or cultural conditioning. But avoiding emotional support doesn’t make you stronger, it just makes you lonelier.
9. You pride yourself on not being a burden
“I don’t want to burden anyone” has become your mantra. You’ve built your entire identity around being low-maintenance, easy-going, and drama-free.
But life isn’t always low-maintenance. Sometimes you need high maintenance. Sometimes you need to be the one taking up space, asking for support, requiring attention. And that’s okay.
The fear of being a burden often masks a deeper fear of rejection. What if you ask for help and people realize you’re not as together as you seem?
10. You’ve forgotten what it feels like to be supported
This might be the saddest sign of all. You’ve been going it alone for so long that you’ve literally forgotten what genuine support feels like.
You can’t remember the last time you called someone crying. You can’t recall when you last admitted you were scared or confused or completely lost. The muscle memory of leaning on others has atrophied from lack of use.
Final words
Recognizing these signs in yourself isn’t comfortable. Trust me, writing this brought up plenty of my own resistance to asking for help.
But here’s what I’ve learned through years of practicing vulnerability, first in my writing and then in real life: strength isn’t about never needing anyone. It’s about having the courage to reach out when you do.
Start small. Next time someone asks how you are, try being honest. Share one small struggle with a trusted friend. Accept that offer of help, even if it makes you squirm.
You might be surprised to find that people actually want to be there for you. They’re just waiting for you to let them.
