Last month I wrote about noticing. Judah's quiet withdrawal.
This month, I want to flip that around. Because noticing is one thing. But what about when you're the one who needs to be noticed?
Three Words
Matti came off his bike the other week. Properly came off. Scraped knee, gravel in his palms, tears streaming. And before I'd even reached him, he looked up and said: "Dad, I need help."
Three words. No hesitation. No apology. No attempt to minimise it or tough it out.
I picked him up, cleaned him off, and we carried on. But those three words stayed with me for days.
When was the last time I said them?
I couldn't remember.
Am I alone in this?
Twenty years of working in mental health, and I still catch myself pushing through when I should be asking for support. Still defaulting to "I'm fine" when I'm not. Still treating the need for help as something to be managed privately rather than spoken aloud.
If I do it, and I train people in this for a living, what chance does everyone else have?
Why We Stop Asking
Children ask for help instinctively. It's one of the first things they learn to do. Cry, reach out, receive care. The loop is simple and it works.
Then somewhere between childhood and adulthood, we learn a different lesson. We learn that asking for help is risky. That it makes us look incompetent. That the strong, capable, professional thing to do is handle it ourselves.
Research by Dr Wayne Baker at the University of Michigan found that the fear of appearing incompetent is the single biggest barrier to asking for help at work. Not that help isn't available. Not that colleagues wouldn't give it. But that asking would change how we're perceived.
His studies also found something a little counterintuitive: people who ask for help are actually rated as more competent by their colleagues, not less. The act of asking signals self-awareness, trust, and confidence. But the fear tells us the opposite story.
We touched on psychological safety back in June, where workplace cultures that reward self-sufficiency and penalise vulnerability make asking for help feel genuinely dangerous.
This barrier isn't just internal. Sometimes it's structural.
The Neurodivergent Experience
For neurodivergent colleagues, asking for help carries additional weight. When your needs have historically been framed as "too much," "too demanding," or "high maintenance," the act of asking for support becomes tangled up with identity.
One of my Neurodiversity Champion delegates put it this way in their feedback: "Don't be scared to ask someone." Simple words. But for someone whose requests for accommodation have been met with eye-rolls or resistance, asking takes real courage.
If you're neurodivergent and reading this: your support needs are legitimate. Asking for what you need isn't a burden. It's a right.
If you manage neurodivergent colleagues: the way you respond when someone asks for help determines whether they'll ever ask again.
A Friend Who Noticed
On Mentality Meets, Matthew Loynes, a mental health advocate who has lived with anxiety for 15 years, described the moment things shifted for him: "It was as simple as you and I talking. A friend just noticed something was going on and pulled me out of it."
Not a clinical intervention.
Not a formal process.
A friend who noticed, and who was willing to start the conversation.
That's the connection between last month and this.
Sometimes the person who's struggling can ask for help themselves, like Matti on his bike. Sometimes they can't, and they need someone else to notice and reach in, like Matthew's friend did for him.
Both are valid. Both are needed.
Your Challenge for November
This month, two invitations.
1. Ask for help with one thing. It doesn't have to be dramatic.
- It could be asking a colleague to take something off your plate.
- Telling a friend you're finding something hard.
- Admitting to your team that you don't have all the answers.
Notice what happens. Notice how it feels.
2. If you notice someone who might be struggling but isn't asking, be the person who reaches in.
- You don't need to fix anything.
- You don’t need to solve anything.
Try saying: "I've noticed you seem a bit different lately. How are you doing?"
You might be the friend who pulls someone out of it.
The Live Sessions
The Busyness Trap starts on Monday 23 November, with sessions continuing each Monday through to 14 December. I genuinely can't wait.
These four conversations are designed around everything we've been exploring this term.
- Slowing down.
- Noticing.
- Asking for help.
- Being present.
They're interactive, with reflective exercises and breakout rooms.
Not a lecture.
A conversation.
And they're completely free.
Book your place →
Session 1: The Busyness Trap (23 Nov, 11:45-12:30)
Session 2: What Actually Matters (30 Nov, 11:45-12:30)
Session 3: Boundaries Without Guilt (7 Dec, 11:45-12:30)
Session 4: Being Present (14 Dec, 11:45-12:30)
If you've been reading these emails and thinking "this sounds good in theory, but how do I actually practise it?" That's exactly what these sessions are for.
A Note on the Book
It's nearly done. The final chapter is coming together, and I'm planning to share more with you very soon. If you attend the live sessions, you'll be the first to hear about it.
Your friend, Peter
