The Helplessness of the Helper

Yesterday, when I was watching a Hindi serial something weighed on my heart!

A young woman — a new bride — lives under the weight of her in-laws’ cruelty. Her husband sees it. He tries to help. Again and again, he stands up for her. Reaches out. Tries to shield her from the storm.

But every time, she gently turns him away.
Not because she doesn’t need him.
But because she believes her silence keeps the family from falling apart.
So, she suffers… alone.

And one day, he stops trying.

That moment lingered.

Because haven’t we all stood there — holding our hand out for someone we love, only to watch them walk away from it?

We try. We cry. We wait.
But how long can you hold out a hand that’s never taken?

It reminded me of Sugriv and Lord Hanuman.
Sugriv ran in agony, escaping the wrath of his brother Vali, circling the earth in fear.
Only when he broke down and prayed did Hanuman show him the mountain of Rishimukh — the one place Vali couldn’t step on.

Sugriv asked, “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
And Hanuman answered,
“Because you didn’t ask.”

That’s the divine dilemma.
"You are not meant to help unless asked, lest it be taken for granted."

But what about the ones who don’t even know they’re falling?
What about the friend drowning in depression, who snaps at you every time you check in?
What about the loved one who pushes you away not out of anger — but out of pain?

Do you stop?
Or do you keep showing up?

Maybe… the purest form of love is not in saving someone.
It’s in being there.
In whispering through closed doors: "I’m here when you're ready."
It’s in holding a hand out — again and again — even when it’s left hanging in the air.

Because one day, when their strength crumbles, when their pride gives way to tears…
They might look around.
And see you.
Still there.
Still holding out your hand.

And maybe, just maybe —
They’ll take it.

---

"To love someone long-term is to attend a thousand funerals of the people they used to be."
— Heidi Priebe

Maybe your hand is tired from reaching out,
But their soul…
Their soul is exhausted from just surviving.
They’re not ignoring you —
They’re drowning quietly, inside themselves.

So don’t take their silence as indifference.
Take it as a cry they don’t know how to voice.
Because sometimes the ones who push you away
Are the ones who need you the most.