The reciprocal joy of asking a favor
Raise your hand if you like to help people. I know I do. Now, raise your hand if the idea of asking for help can send you into a guilty, stomach-churning spiral: Should I? Shouldn’t I? If I ask, will this person think less of me? On this one, I am going to raise my hand partway, maybe give you an indecisive wiggle. Because though I’ve made some strides where asking for favors is concerned, I still waste far too much time overthinking most requests.
A request, at face value, is nothing more than a question. But to be human is to struggle with taking anything at face value. The human brain excels at layering our own experiences over everything. So when you debate asking a friend to assist with a charity auction you’re organizing, you’re thinking how busy she already is, or remembering that you’ve been meaning to ask her to lunch for eons, or maybe even worrying that she’s too nice to say no, but she’ll resent you for making her feel obligated. You might even talk yourself out of asking altogether.
Recently, I fell into a do-I-don’t-I debate over whether to ask an author—a woman who presented at a writing retreat I attended—to share a mammoth spreadsheet she created, a comprehensive listing of the myriad tasks involved in publishing a novel. Obviously, it’s something she’s put a huge amount of time and effort into. There are, in fact, people who work as consultants and charge for this type of thing. But this woman doesn’t consult, so it seemed ridiculous to offer to pay her. Could I ask her to give away her hard earned knowledge for free? Would she consider me cheap, or lazy, or rude? I dithered half a day. Then finally rationalized that she wouldn’t have provided her contact info if she wasn’t open to questions. I fired off the email. And guess what—not only did she reply with a Yes, but she offered to go through the spreadsheet with me personally during a one-hour call.
Wow. But then, she isn’t the first author, nor will she be the last, who has generously contributed to my writing journey. I, too, am doing what I can to pay it forward. Whenever I critique a manuscript, or evaluate someone’s pitch copy, or simply share a little tidbit of wisdom, not only does it feel good to help, but I always learn something new. In the wise words of Jimmy Carter: “You always get back much more than you give.”
So next time you find yourself hesitant to ask a favor, turn your self-doubt on its head: Think of it as offering someone an opportunity—one they are free to accept or decline, one they might even consider a gift. Because honestly, it feels good to be asked, to be thought of, to be trusted.
It feels good to contribute.
Recommended reading: I recently finished the first two books in The Corbitt Calamities series by Sara LaFontain. Nothing too serious, just fun, light mystery/thrillers involving a woman and her rockstar sibling. A little sassy, a little sweet. I plowed through them (have not read the third, which is a prequel). Perfect for the holidays, when parties and dinners and visiting family squeeze nightly reading time. Undemanding as they are, you’ll keep turning the pages. Trust me on this.
Pair with: The Descendants, Chateau Tumbleweed. With temps back up near ninety, I’m still preferring whites. This Rhone blend gets its upfront acidity from Picpoul Blanc, and its lingering mellowness from Roussanne and Viognier. And the label features—siblings! (Twins, specifically, which reminds me of my dear, sweet aunts, but I digress). If a trip to Cottonwood isn’t in your near future, maybe try something bubbly. One of my faves is Borrasca Blanc de Blancs Cava. It’s a great party wine and so lush, no one will guess you only paid $10 a bottle.
Cheers!
Lisa Binsfeld author 