Do you ever feel like you don’t need anyone? It’s a question that might resonate deeply, especially if you’re someone who prides themselves on being self-reliant. But here’s where it gets controversial: could this hyper-independence, often celebrated as a strength, actually be a hidden burden? Let’s dive into the complexities of this mindset and explore why it might be time to rethink our approach to asking for help.
When Cianne Jones’s relative fell seriously ill and was hospitalized for over a month, she took charge. She was the one at the hospital daily, coordinating with doctors, taking notes, and ensuring everything was handled. The stress was overwhelming—so much so that her hair began to fall out. Yet, she pressed on, never pausing to consider asking for assistance. It wasn’t until her therapist gently pointed out the toll it was taking that she realized something was amiss. Jones laughs about it now, recalling how even her physical health deteriorating didn’t signal to her that she needed help—it took an outsider’s perspective to make her see it. She had a large, supportive family ready to step in, but it simply didn’t occur to her to reach out. And this is the part most people miss: hyper-independence often stems from a fear of burdening others or a deep-seated need to maintain control.
Many of us can relate to this. I’ve been there too—handling caregiving responsibilities alone, moving house by myself, or even buying weightlifting equipment only to realize I couldn’t carry it home. For years, I wore my hyper-independence like a badge of honor, believing it showcased my superior capabilities. But over time, I’ve come to see it differently. It’s not just about being self-sufficient; it’s often rooted in fear—fear of rejection, fear of losing control, or fear of being a burden. For instance, I once refused help from a friend during a move, only to end up exhausted and overwhelmed. It wasn’t until later that I realized how much easier it could have been if I’d just asked for a hand.
But here’s the bigger picture: research consistently shows that the quality of our relationships is a cornerstone of happiness and health. Clinical psychologist Dr. Stephen Blumenthal puts it bluntly: ‘We are wired for connection. Existing alone is detrimental.’ While some may naturally lean toward hyper-independence, for many, it can lead to isolation and loneliness. Blumenthal often sees this in his practice—individuals who excel professionally but struggle in their personal relationships. Take Jones, for example, whose hyper-independence was partly learned from watching her single mother juggle raising four children and leading a charity. This inspired Jones to pursue her own ambitious goals, including qualifying as a solicitor, running a company, founding a charity, and starting a PhD. Yet, this relentless drive came at a cost—she experienced burnout after a panic attack landed her in the hospital. Even then, her first instinct was to bring her laptop along.
Jones admits she resists asking for help, viewing it as a sign of weakness. She’s close with her family and has strong friendships, but her hyper-independence has taken a toll on her romantic relationships. ‘Do I really need anyone?’ she often wonders, echoing a sentiment shared by many women in their 30s who feel they’ve achieved everything on their own. Urvashi Lad, another hyper-independent individual, ran businesses and remained single until her 40s, attributing it to her need for control. ‘It can keep you alone because you don’t feel safe to find love,’ she reflects. It took her over a year of therapy and journaling to lower her guard and let someone in. Now engaged, she still catches herself resisting her fiancé’s help, even with small tasks like checking her car’s screenwash. ‘It’s really nice that he wants to do this,’ she reminds herself, a small but significant shift in mindset.
In Western society, independence and individualism are often glorified, particularly in men, from the lone cowboy archetype to the modern ‘sigma male’ trend. Women aren’t exempt either, with ‘girl boss’ culture celebrating self-reliance. But there’s a darker side to this narrative. For Black women like Jones, hyper-independence is often tied to the stereotype of being ‘strong,’ a label that can feel like a double-edged sword. ‘So will women actually go out and ask for help in the first place?’ Jones questions, highlighting how societal expectations can deter seeking support. Lad, of Indian heritage, also points to cultural conditioning that encourages women to do it all themselves, creating a cycle of self-reliance that can be hard to break.
Hyper-independence often begins in childhood, according to psychotherapist Kathleen Saxton. It might stem from inconsistent parenting, emotional unavailability, or even being the eldest child who took on caregiving responsibilities early. ‘It’s a coping mechanism,’ Saxton explains, ‘a sense that I can’t rely on anybody, so I’ll rely on myself.’ While it can lead to being seen as a ‘fixer’ or ‘rescuer,’ the downside is emotional exhaustion and resentment. Phil Rowe, who embodies this trait, recalls feeling unworthy of others’ efforts as a young man. Hospitalized for depression in his late teens, he admits part of his struggle was his inability to open up. ‘I didn’t want to burden people,’ he says. Now in his 50s and married for 35 years, it’s only in recent years that he’s become more comfortable asking for help.
So, what’s the solution? Saxton suggests starting small—practicing ‘micro-dependence’ by asking for help with minor tasks or sharing a worry. ‘Healthy intimate relationships require reciprocity,’ she emphasizes. Lad’s turning point came when she challenged herself to let someone buy her a coffee, a small act that led to significant changes in her relationships. Jones, too, is experimenting with vulnerability, joining a local running club to foster accountability and support. While she’s skeptical about fully letting go of her hyper-independent tendencies, she acknowledges the toll it takes. ‘As I get older, I’m not sure I particularly like that role all the time,’ she admits.
Here’s the thought-provoking question: What would it look like to start stating your needs and seeing if they could be met? Could you tolerate a little vulnerability, even if it feels uncomfortable at first? The journey toward balance isn’t easy, but it might just be worth it. After all, as Rowe reflects, ‘Looking inward is kind of negative, compared with reaching out into the world. Usually, people are quite happy to help.’*
