it's okay to ask for help

notes on the "tough girl complex" + a busy, exhausting, beautiful summer

Do you ever feel like you’re carving up little bits of yourself like offerings until there’s nothing left but bone?

That is how this summer has left me.

Scars, scabs ripped off to fresh bleeding, every last thing I’ve had to give given.

“I feel like burnt toast, and that was even an easy trip,” I joked yesterday, but that doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Guiding, especially guiding overnights, is a little bit like that.

It’s wearing down your body day after day hauling gear and paddling and putting others needs before your own. It’s sun damage and overuse injuries despite your careful, careful care, and feeling the collective exhaustion at the end of being “on” for days at a time.

it’s hard, hard work, but at least the work looks like this :)

I’ve been showing up for other people— clients and coworkers and strangers— all summer and I’m hitting this wall that’s now looking me in the face and saying “there’s not anything left, you’ve got nothing left to give”.

The best parts of me all come from my mother.

She’s the sort of person who clocks when someone is about to cry and ushers them out of the room to a safer place. My mom always finds a way to take care of people in a way that never feels like charity. She is the sort of person who can always seem to find more of herself to give—

(i am beginning to think i am not that person, but i would like to be)

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Once, a few years ago, I was struggling to lift a kayak myself to the top of my car when my friend came up behind me and grabbed it, helped me hoist it.

“Jesus Maddy, just because you can do it doesn’t mean you should. You don’t have to do it yourself,” he said.

I protested, because like every “tough girl¹” out here I have something to prove.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you there’s no shame in asking for help?”

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A coworker and I take a day off to book the boat cruise through the Apostle Islands, watch the islands fly by in four hours instead of four days. It’s beautiful and fun and a nice change of place and a cool spot to be.

Devils Island as viewed from the cruise boat

On the way off the boat, a small girl falls into the Lake between the dock and the boat, a narrow gap just over a foot wide. Time seems to stop as people realize what happened and her dad pulls her out.

We walk over when it’s clear she’s okay to check on her and get her out of wet cold clothes and into my jacket. I tell her to keep the jacket, and hope that when she’s big she remembers that there will always be people looking out for her.

We don’t see them again, but I won’t stop thinking about how scared her mother looked when she realized what had happened for the next few days.

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I must have been visibly stressed on my most recent overnight when my boss paused me and said “tell me what you need to make this happen”— pacing back and forth trying to figure out how I could all the gear packed and ready and everyone fitted with wetsuits and out to Sand Island before dark (and is that even possible at this point!???!), or should we just stay on the mainland? Everything was chaotic, most especially the forecast and I just couldn’t decide. It would take an army to help me get this group to Sand Island before dark.

Sometimes when faced with close decisions I freeze, and can’t make a choice. Choosing one thing means to give up the other. I want to get the group to Sand Island, but I am overwhelmed by the mountain of tasks leading up to that.

It’s my friend from a few years ago who I think of— you don’t have to do it all yourself.

left to right: looking out of a Manitou Island sea cave, the beach on York Island, looking toward the Outer islands from Basswood Island

I went back to my group and just… told them what I needed to happen to get us out to Sand Island that night— I need everyone to help me pack this trailer as fast as possible, I need everyone to change quickly, get in the van, and then pack the boats and make moves to the island with speed.

And just like that, it happened.

A beautiful three miles sliding over smooth rolling swell left over from the big waves earlier that week while the sun set. It felt like magic, felt like the ocean. Yes, dinner happened in the dark around the campfire, late in the day with everyone a little hungry but everyone’s spirits were high.

We were all happy to be out there, they were happy to help, and I was grateful not only for their willingness and what an incredible crew they were, but for the reminder that there is no shame in asking for help.

The rest of the custom women’s trip went smooth as water— not a single complaint uttered, tailwind and crystal clear water, long cold beach swims and sea caves. It was probably one of the most wonderful trips I’ve ever had the privilege of leading. A group of wonderful, like-minded women come together to have an adventure and become a team. There is something so extremely special about that, and every second out there was a privilege.

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I came back from the most recent women’s trip tired but also feeling appreciative.

It isn’t lost on me how lucky I am to have the flexibility to work this job, both logistically and physically. I am grateful for every trip I’ve done this summer, every moment sleeping under the stars, every person I’ve gotten to meet and share a little slice of my favorite place in the world with.

This summer has left me exhausted and thin and a little empty but it’s also been wonderful and beautiful and left me feeling strong. It’s been filled with hundreds of little lessons—

it’s okay to go easy on myself, and sometimes things will be imperfect and that’s okay, and preventative care is the best first aid, and probably most importantly it’s okay to ask for help.

This week, after a perfect trip, I found out I just don’t have that much left of be to pour into this season, and that’s okay. It’s time, or at least almost time, for fall, and resetting, and a little bit of quiet time and a little bit of change.

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• Looking to join the next women’s outdoor adventure? Check out the Women’s Climbing Trip (beginner friendly, I am not a great climber by any stretch of the imagination) at Tettegouche State Park this September! This is a guided climbing event and I’ll be organizing camping nearby for whoever wants to come!

• It’s almost that time of year (Fall!!)!! Check out my Midwest Fall color destination guides here!

1. I think I’ve written before about the “Tough Girl Complex” in the outdoors, or at least I’ve talked about it a lot. I think women in the outdoors, particularly those of us working in the outdoor industry get it into our heads that we have to be the toughest, that we have to be “one of the guys”, that we have to do it ourselves and without help. I think that as a result we burn out and get hurt. Blair Braverman talks a little about what I would call the “Tough Girl Complex” in her memoir Welcome to the Goddamn Ice Cube