Gimme and Take
On helping, needing help, and being human.
My mother used to tell me that I was someone who was always “gimme, gimme, gimme.” I recall my father screaming at my mother that she was always “take, take, take.” Two sides of the same coin.
Remember to give and never to take.
The message I got from my parents is that good people don’t take.
As I grew up, I tried to be responsible for myself as much as possible and be helpful to my family. I tried extra hard when I was reminded not to take too much.
I realized one of my best qualities was my usefulness. I’m a hard worker. I’m good in a crisis. I get shit done.
I’ve had entire relationships built on my usefulness. It wasn’t that they took and never gave. But it wasn’t equal. And when they didn’t need my help anymore, they also stopped calling.
Still, I couldn’t see the pattern. I figured I just needed to take less and give more.
Work hard and your company will take care of you.
I was the same person professionally as I was personally.
I’d pour myself into my jobs. If I could be the best employee ever, the most dedicated and loyal person to ever work there, surely they’d see this and wonderful things would happen.
Never mind that the common advice is that if you take on more responsibility, you’ll get raises and promotions. That’s what bosses and managers tell you. I’ll tell you that in my experience, this is bullshit. It’s only ever gotten me more work.
Capitalism and corporate greed thrive on people like me.
But it was all worth it, right?
I’d try and I’d try and I’d try, but none of that trying, personally or professionally, filled the holes in me I was trying to fill. I’d get resentful. I’d resolve to focus my efforts elsewhere, somewhere they’d be appreciated as they should be. They weren’t.
I’d overcorrect and stop caring. Stop doing. Stop helping. Start taking. I’d still feel empty, but I’d also feel guilt and shame.
Gimme, gimme, gimme. Take, take, take.
It’s about balance.
I don’t blame anyone for this. I’m not a victim of anyone’s behavior. I simply hadn’t learned to give and take respectfully.
I am a giver. Helping people fulfills me. But learning to respect myself—my time and my needs—meant learning to slow down when the giving was too much. It meant speaking up and saying my needs weren’t being met.
I also learned it’s okay to take, especially when help or love or friendship is offered. And it’s okay to ask for that when I need it.
People can and should say when they don’t have more to give. Taking respectfully means not taking more than someone can give and respecting their needs.
Taking isn’t inherently selfish, and we don’t have to give until we’re so depleted we wither away. We need to balance it. We need to give without expectation and take no more than we need. We need to respect ourselves and others.
We need to know that we don’t all live this way, not all the time anyway. We mess up. We get selfish. We resent.
When we feel someone is taking too much from us, we can show compassion, grace, and kindness. We can assume it’s unintentional and people wouldn’t hurt us on purpose.
When someone doesn’t have more to give us, we can respect that. We can understand it’s not necessarily personal.
I am not gimme and take.
I understand now that I only have to give as much as I want, and that amount can vary depending on the circumstance. I can say no when it’s too much, whether that’s a job or people. When I say no, I’m still a good person.
I understand that it’s okay to need people. It’s normal to lean on others and to ask and accept help. It’s okay to expect that people will help when they can. It’s okay to be disappointed when they can’t, but one must do so with respect, understanding, and compassion. I can live this way and still be a good person.
Why am I telling you this?
I’m telling you this because maybe someone told you that you were all gimme and take. Maybe you feel taken advantage of and don’t know how to stop it. Maybe you feel guilty needing others and asking for help. Maybe you gave so much you can’t stop being mad about it, which makes you feel worse.
If you haven’t given yourself permission to let it go, I’m telling you this is a good time to go ahead and finally do it. Let it go. The guilt, the shame, the anger, the resentment. Let it go.
Strive to give and take respectfully with kindness, compassion, and empathy, even when that’s hard. Maybe especially when it’s hard. If you mess up, ask for forgiveness from others and also yourself. Then try again to do better tomorrow.
If we all act this way and assume others are also acting this way, I feel like we’ll all end up in a better place.
(And yes, I know this is all easier said than done. But maybe it’s a good place to start.)