When I moved house a few years ago, I also moved away from the friend who used to help me with DIY. And when I say “help,” I mean he did it for me—it’s never been my strong suit. We’ve known each other for nearly 30 years, so asking felt easy and natural.  The other day, trying to use a sealant gun, I felt completely overwhelmed. I watched a few YouTube tutorials, but the real help came from my local DIY store and a swimming friend who shared some practical tips. In that moment, I realised something uncomfortable: I’m not very good at asking for help. Maybe it’s because I’ve done so much on my own - buying a house, running a business, taking on big swims. But the more I ask, the easier it gets. For someone with Connection as their number one value, this was a tough reality check. I connect with and support my community on a daily basis, yet hesitate to ask when I need support myself. When people ask things of me, it feels like an honour—a chance to contribute to their journey. Why wouldn’t others feel the same about helping me? This became even clearer during a recent swim in Lake Annecy. At a tough point, swimmers I didn’t know had come to the banks to cheer me on. Further along, other friends from my trip were clapping and cheering as I passed. It brought a tear to my eye. It’s taken me a long time to speak openly about difficult emotions—something I do much more freely now. I’m realising the next step in my growth is learning when asking for help will serve me, not just when I can serve others. I’m reminded of the quote from Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant “Friendship isn’t only what you can give, it’s what you’re able to receive” I took up swimming because it looked like a solo sport—and yet, over time, my swimming community has been central to how I’ve flourished in it. Life’s journey doesn’t have to be solo either. There are countless cheerleaders willing you on; the key is to think about who might walk with you through each chapter.

Have you seen the film He’s Just Not That Into You? It focusses on how we can spend a great deal of time interpreting excuses, mixed signals and inconsistent behaviour as evidence of hidden affection, when sometimes the explanation is that the other person is simply not interested. Whilst the film focusses on romantic relationships, I feel it can shape how we approach friendships, professional relationships and other connections too. As someone who prides themselves on nurturing relationships and seeing the best in people, I have often thought that if I am willing to put in the effort, the other person will eventually do the same. If their behaviour is inconsistent, I might explain it away with them being busy or having other things on their mind. It hasn’t always crossed my mind that perhaps the connection is not right for them (or me). I try to live by my values and whilst bringing this to my relationships is a good quality, I have learnt that it takes two to tango. There needs to be a mutual level of interest, responsiveness and commitment and if this is not there, letting go can be done in a respectful way that is still true to my values. I’ve struggled with the balance of putting in the effort versus letting go. I don’t want to lose my positive outlook on the world, but the challenge comes when that optimism prevents us from seeing what is really happening. There is a difference between giving someone the benefit of the doubt and repeatedly disregarding a pattern of behaviour. One missed message or cancelled meeting may mean very little but ongoing inconsistency or a lack of reciprocal effort may be communicating something important. We can acknowledge those signals without turning them into a judgment about our own worth. Someone’s lack of interest does not necessarily mean that we are uninteresting or unworthy. It might just mean that the connection is not right for them—or that they are not able to invest in it. I know I’ve been guilty of taking these things personally but over the years I’ve become more philosophical about it. I can enjoy interacting with a stranger without trying to turn it into a lifelong friendship. When someone is not putting in the effort, I have a choice. I can continue making excuses for them, I can ask directly whether something has changed or I can decide that I no longer want to pursue the connection. It might feel awkward to ask for clarity but if it’s an important connection, an honest conversation could be just what is needed. Of course, people go through difficult periods. Circumstances change, and there will be times when one person temporarily has less capacity than the other. Letting go does not mean abandoning people at the first sign of difficulty. It means paying attention to patterns, communicating honestly and recognising when the relationship no longer has enough mutuality to continue in a healthy way. When considering connections, we can ask: Is this connection reciprocal? Am I responding to the person’s actual behaviour or to the potential I see in them? Have I communicated what I need clearly? Am I continuing because the relationship is nourishing, or because I am hoping it will eventually become so? What advice would I give a friend in the same situation? Walking away from a connection that is consistently one-sided can be an act of self-respect. It creates space for relationships in which interest, care and effort are shared rather than negotiated. Seeing the possibility of a rewarding friendship is not enough; a connection cannot be built on one person’s vision of what it could become. It has to be based on what both people are prepared to contribute now.  So, if you find yourself doing all the nurturing, perhaps it is time to accept what the behaviour is telling you. Not with resentment or self-blame, but with the understanding that your energy is precious—and better directed towards connections where it is genuinely reciprocated.