All I Did Was Ask for Help

I posted in a Facebook group for NDIS providers last week.

I didn’t write anything dramatic. I didn’t pour my heart out or list every single thing I do in a day. I just asked a simple question:

“Is anyone available for a bit of respite support and maybe some light cleaning? Just so I can actually spend some time with my daughter.”

That’s all I said.

And then… it unravelled.

The comment section filled up quickly — but not with help. Not with ideas. Not with gentle support from people who know how hard this road can be.
Instead, I got told to “do my job as a parent.”
That everyone cleans.
That I should “just work more” if I want help.
And then support workers started turning on each other — fighting over rates, ethics, and whose job it really is to do the things I’d mentioned.

It spiralled. Fast.

And just like that, I felt the sting of something I thought I was past by now:
Shame. For asking.

Here’s what I need you to know.

I wasn’t asking for someone to raise my child.
I was asking for space to be her mum.

When you have a child with additional needs, your time becomes segmented. Every minute has a purpose. Prep the meals. Coordinate the therapy. Manage the appointments. Call the specialists. Keep the house functional. Be on — always.

I just wanted someone who could walk alongside us.

Someone who could take her to the park while I packed away the endless washing.
Someone who could sit with her while she does a puzzle so I could cook without splitting my attention in six different directions.
Someone who gets that support is not a luxury — it’s what makes connection possible.

But instead, I started a Facebook group fight.

And I left. Deleted the post. Removed myself.
Because I can’t be in spaces that weaponise “parenting” as a reason to do it all without help.
I can’t stay where asking to be present is twisted into entitlement.

If you’ve ever asked for help and been shut down, judged, or silenced — I see you.

If you’ve ever looked around and thought, surely it shouldn’t be this hard to get support that was promised to us, I feel that in my bones.
We’re not wrong for asking.
We’re not weak for needing help.
We’re not lazy or entitled or selfish.
We are trying to raise our kids in systems that were never built to carry the weight we hold.

And some days, the kindest thing we can do is admit it’s too much.

I'm building something softer. A space where carers and parents — especially mums like me — don’t have to fight so hard to be heard.

If you're looking for a space that gets it — without judgement, without chaos — you’re welcome here.

Let’s stop pretending we can do it all alone.
Let’s start asking better questions.
And let’s make sure no one else feels like I did when all I did was ask for help.🩷

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