We often talk about comparing ourselves to impossible (and usually performative) perfection, but something I keep hearing in conversations, seeing pop up in my research, and, let’s be honest, muttering to myself while reheating the same cup of coffee for the third time... is a different kind of comparison.
When life happens - the good, the hard, the big, the boring - we have this habit: we shrink it. We downplay. We dismiss. We compare.
I hear it all the time:
“I have it better than most, but…”
“First world problem, I know, but…”
“I shouldn’t complain…”
“Other people are going through so much worse…”
Maybe you’ve said one of those too. I know I have.
And yes, sometimes those disclaimers are factually true. Someone out there is going through something different. Harder. But does that make what you’re going through any less valid? Any less heavy? Any less deserving of support?
Should you have to wait for full emotional collapse before you're allowed to say, “This is hard”? Should your joy be wrapped in asterisks, in case it’s “too much”?
Do we really need to rank our struggles before we’re allowed to feel them?
Honestly? I don’t think so.
And that belief - that quiet frustration - was one of the biggest reasons I created We are The Helpful in the first place.
I was fed up.
Fed up with the kind of gifts I could send when someone I loved was hurting (bouquet, card, repeat).
Fed up with a gifting industry that tends to ignore the full spectrum of real life - the messy, beautiful, gritty, gut-wrenching bits that actually shape us. The moments that actually prime us for deeper connection.
That frustration led to (healthy, research-fuelled) obsession.
I started asking two questions over and over again to anyone who would answer:
- What do we actually go through when life happens?
- And what genuinely helps, or would have helped, in hindsight?
And as I spoke to more women - for research, for platfrom design, for sheer human curiosity - I noticed something. Not always in the words themselves, but in the way they were delivered:
The hesitation.
The qualifiers.
The deeply ingrained belief that maybe we shouldn’t feel so much.
It’s subtle, but powerful. And it’s quietly robbing us. We miss out on celebrating how far we’ve come. We miss the chance to receive support that might’ve made all the difference. And we end up pretending, performing, or apologising our way through really human experiences - just because we think someone else has it worse, or better, or neater.
Take Motherhood. Beautiful? Absolutely.
But also sleep-deprived, emotionally intense, and at times, mind-numbingly mundane. You can love your baby and still cry in the (probably very messy) pantry. Both are true.
Or recovery. Maybe you’re not in the hospital. But maybe your energy is zapped. Your mental load is crushing. You still deserve care.
The more we compare our lives to someone else’s - whether it's their highlight reel or their rock bottom - the more we disconnect from what we actually need.
And the harder it becomes to ask for help. Or accept it. Or believe we’re allowed it at all.
This is why We are The Helpful exists. Not just to offer thoughtful, actually-useful gifts (though yes, we do that) but to help reframe the way we think about giving and receiving support altogether.
Because here’s the truth I keep coming back to:
Needing help is not a weakness.
Wanting support doesn’t make you selfish.
And accepting love, whether it’s a lasagne, a care package, or just a message that says “I see you”, doesn’t take anything away from someone else.
It simply says: “I’m human. This is a lot. And I don’t have to do it alone.”
Life is full of highs and lows, quiet achey middles, burnouts and breakthroughs, joys we want to shout from the rooftops and days we just need to survive.
We weren’t meant to navigate any of it solo. So maybe let’s retire the disclaimers.
Let’s stop comparing who’s got it worse, or better, or more “together”. And let’s get back to showing up; for ourselves and for each other - with way more honesty, softness and support.
That’s the whole point of We are The Helpful.
Support that feels real. Gifts that meet the moment. And full permission to feel what you feel, ask for what you need, and give with heart.
Because when life happens (and it always does), you deserve to feel held. No qualifiers required.
