Why be satisfied with crumbs?
By: Tal Lee Anderman
Tags: Highly Sensitive People, Holidays, Helping Others, Intuition, Empathy

Photo by Aaron Burden

Driving home after the Thanksgiving holiday, I was listening to Esther Perel’s Where Should We Begin? A fabulous podcast of real, anonymized couples counseling sessions.

During one session, Esther interrupts the more grounded, “healthy” person in the relationship to ask them:

“But why are you satisfied with crumbs?”

The question stumped them and, reflecting back, it stumped me too.

I’m a successful, high-functioning person who has designed a life around needing as little as possible from anyone else. And yet, like everyone, I have moments of vulnerability. Moments where I need someone.

Why don’t I ask for more?

As Esther unpacked the question with her client, I did the same. This is what I found.

Why are you satisfied with crumbs?

Growing up, I felt attuned to those around me — I thought I understood what they needed, and what they were able to give.

I was also conscious of what asking for anything — a listening ear, a hug, help moving a piece of furniture — would require of them. I felt overwhelmed by the burden I was placing on them by asking for help. So I didn’t ask.

My “grown up life” started at 18 as a ballerina and waitress in New York City. Since then, I’ve been an environmental scientist and policy advocate in rural India, an MBA student at Stanford’s Graduate School of Business, and a leadership coach and community builder at a thriving startup in San Francisco.

Each of these chapters required a different set of relationships, skills and mindsets. I thrived — I assumed — because of my intuitive approach to understanding and connecting with the world around me.

My assumptions were reinforced by my success in navigating these diverse and complex worlds. But they also allowed me to ignore my fears.

I feared more than anything a person’s refusal to help.

But as long as I didn’t ask, I wouldn’t know if I had the support and community I desperately sought. If I asked for less than what I assumed a person could give me, I was safe.

I can’t count the number of couches I’ve pushed up a flight of stairs or scooted around my apartment by myself, preferring to risk puncturing a wall or a lung than ask for someone’s help. The number of times I called a friend feeling desperate to share, only to fill the conversation with questions about their day. Hanging up without asking for, or even exposing, my need for a listening ear.

As long as I didn’t ask, I wouldn’t know if I had the support and community I desperately sought.

And so, I settled for crumbs.

Over time the crumbs became smaller and smaller, and increasingly tasted of cardboard rather than gingerbread.

I didn’t notice.

I too was adapting to the flavor and texture of my own expectations.

Facing my fears

It wasn’t until I began an intensive therapy program that I was forced to face my fears, and the assumptions that protected me from them for many years.

With an incredible therapist to hold my hand, I began taking my first steps towards asking for what I needed.

I’ll never forget the night I called my friend Jon at half past midnight on a Sunday night, sobbing. I’d just broken up with a guy, and was riding the “What is wrong with me? Will I ever find ‘the one’?” ferris wheel.

Still in the ex-boyfriend’s driveway, I dialed Jon’s number, aware it was a full 3 hours past his bedtime. I didn’t pretend everything was fine when he picked up the phone, I just sobbed. After half an hour of releasing my feelings of sadness, fear and guilt, I tried to pull myself together.

“I’m fine now” I said. “You should get some sleep.”

“Tal Lee, I know you’re fine. But why don’t I stay with you on the phone until you get home?”

That was the first time I truly let someone help me, without calculating the cost to them, or weighing the risk of asking for help now versus when I might need it later on. I let Jon be there for me, laughing and joking as I turned on my car and drove the 15 minutes home.

It was a simple gesture, but it helped me understand that I had people willing to pick up the phone, no matter the time.

They weren’t expecting a reward, or going to keep score. Instead, they were just my friend, there when I needed help. Just as I was there for them.

I have stopped assuming I know what other people can and want to give.

A call for community

Today, I expect more than crumbs.

Though the Great British Baking Show has me dreaming of far fancier cookies.

I have stopped assuming I know what other people can and want to give.

Instead, I courageously let go of my fear of finding myself alone, and boldly make a call for community — for a group of people willing, and even delighted, to step up when I need them, and even when I don’t.

The tricky thing is that the “crumbs mindset” reinforces itself; as long as you don’t ask for help, you’ll never know if it’s there. A self-fulfilling prophecy, it can be incredibly difficult to unhook.

To begin untangling myself from my assumptions and fears, I had the helpful guidance of a therapist, and took baby steps with close friends.

I courageously let go of my fear of finding myself alone, and boldly make a call for community

With the holidays in full swing, our environment is ripe with opportunities to ignore our needs and focus on fulfilling the expectations of coworkers, friends and family.

And yet, there is also the opportunity to celebrate and lean on our community, especially when we need help.

What do you need right now, and what assumptions are keeping you from asking for it?