Learning to Receive: Letting Love In Without Guilt

There’s a quiet kind of strength in holding it all together when you're going through one of life's hard chapters. You feel fragile, less capable, and overwhelmed. You're usually the independent one, the one who doesn’t need much.

For most of my life, I’ve been that person who just figures shit out until it eventually works out. The person who never actually asked for help even though I might have needed it.

In this chapter in my little families life, this tender, stretching, humbling chapter, has cracked something open in me in the most unexpected way. When life got heavy… people showed up. Not with words, but with groceries on our doorstep. They put Gift Cards in an envelope. They mowed lawns. They shovelled dirt into our rose gardens, They dropped off fruit and vegetable boxes. They organised meal deliveries. They sewed recovery pillows. They bought blankets and pamper packages. They made up supplement and superfood boxes. They made desserts. They brought homemade dinners. They called. They text. They showed up bigger and brighter than we ever could've imagined.

And at first, It felt uncomfortable. Like we felt bad, and even the feeling of guilt came up because people were doing all these nice things for us to show their love and support. We didn't feel that way because we didn't appreciate it, but because receiving can feel vulnerable as fuck and we were just so blown away by all the love and support. 

When you’re used to being strong and not one to ask for help, accepting help can stir up all these strange emotions:

• Guilt.

• Embarrassment.

• A sense of “we should be able to do this ourselves.”

• The urge to say, “You didn’t have to do that.” or "No it's okay, but thanks."

But here’s what I’m/we're learning:

When someone shows their love through giving, and we block it with guilt, we block the love too. People don’t bring meals because they think you’re incapable. They bring them because they care and love you.

They don’t mow your lawn or shovel soil in your rose garden because you’ve failed. They do it because it’s their way of holding you up. And sometimes, the greatest act of courage isn’t pushing through alone.

It’s letting yourself be supported. We talk a lot about generosity. About being the giver. About service. About showing up for others. But we don’t talk enough about the humility required to receive. Receiving asks us to soften. To actually admit we’re human. To release control, and to allow someone else to carry part of the load.

It asks us to trust that we are worthy of love and care, even when we haven’t “earned” it. Especially then! For us, this season has been layered. Emotional. Scary. Exhausting.... But it's also a season full of love, gratitude, and healing. The support that has arrived has come in ways that has blown us away. It's given me so much hope knowing that there's some bloody good humans out there.

I’m realising that this is what community actually looks like. There’s something sacred about someone saying, “I’ve got this for you.” And instead of responding with deflection or apology, you simply say:

“Thank you.” No justification. No promise to repay immediately. Just gratitude. Because allowing others to give is also a gift. It feels good to give and to help someone. I love that feeling when you get to make someone's day with an act of service. It gives us purpose and connection. It's a way to express what’s in our hearts..... So why do we find it hard to receive?

When we let love in, we strengthen the web that holds us all.

If you’re in a chapter where people are showing up for you in ways you didn’t expect, let this be your permission slip:

≫You are not weak for accepting help.
≫You are not failing because you need support.
≫You are not a burden.

You are human. And humans were never meant to do this life alone. Sometimes strength looks like resilience. Sometimes it looks like discipline. Sometimes it looks like pushing through.

And sometimes…

It looks like opening the door, taking the groceries inside, and whispering a quiet thank you to the universe for the people who care enough to show up. This chapter has taught me that love doesn’t always come in the form we expect.

Sometimes it arrives in a fruit and veg box or a meals you didn’t shop for or cook. If you’re someone who rarely asks for help, maybe this is your invitation too.

Let it in. Let the meals come. Let the groceries be delivered.

Let the love in, and know you're worthy of it because receiving without guilt, might just be one of the bravest things you ever learn to do.

Bedtime thoughts....

Love ya's to the full moon and back,

Charlie x