When it comes to helping people, there’s always this part of my mind that jumps to feeling guilty about it. And at the same time that I know why I feel guilty, I don’t really know why I know why I feel guilty.
I recognise it though, this feeling of imposing, of bugging, of intruding. I know it comes from a lack of self confidence. Which comes from my teenage years, of being soft spoken, of having a quiet voice and of doubting each word that comes out of your mouth.
I’ve been anxious before I knew what anxiety really was and could create. And maybe that’s always been with me, and IS with me as I stumble along in the dark.
I offer my help – to readers here, because of my own struggles in my journeys. But when I do so, I’m hit with a wave of questions, more noticeably one that asks – why is this so important to you?
I’ve wrote about this before, this Daddy-esque feeling, this overwhelming desire to console and guide where help or guidance is needed. And it doesn’t just stop at BDSM and the lifestyle, it extends to any issue. It extends to friends. To friends of friends. To strangers. To family.
I’ve written to my lady’s friends when I sense a troubled mind in their posts. And I can’t help it. You better believe I fight it. I don’t want to sound like I’m preying on a vulnerable time, I don’t want to sound or feel like a creep – yet I’m driven forward by this need to offer help.
I don’t offer it aggressively. Or repeatedly. I mean, I do here but that’s only because I sometimes want to reach out to new followers because I sometimes receive a private message in which the person states they’ve been working up the courage to write to me – and I don’t know why, because I’m the friendly neighbourhood teddy bear.
But I offer help gently. Once, and then I’m gone. The old me would’ve obsessed with stressing it’s okay to write to me but now I know best to leave it to the individual. They will if they want.
So: I don’t know why I feel like I’d be intruding. Maybe it’s just residual anxious thoughts best left to throw out with the trash. Maybe it’s more important – a defect in my mind? I’m all for a balance and if I have a need to help and guide, what’s on the other scale?
All I know is I can be driven by a need to help anyone either from this blog or otherwise. It’s my honour. And sometimes I feel bad about that.