“Needing Help Is Bad”: How That Belief Hurts
If you grew up in a high-demand religion or tight-control group, you may have heard versions of: “Don’t be weak,” “Take it to prayer,” “Outsiders can’t be trusted,” or “Asking for help means you lack faith.” Over time, those messages can calcify into a core belief: needing help is bad.
Having needs is human
Humans are wired for social support, which ends up lowering risk for a range of mental-health difficulties and helps people recover after stress and trauma. Supportive relationships buffer distress and are linked with better outcomes following adversity. Yet many of us carry shame around asking for help. Research across cultures finds that stigma, including fears of being judged as “weak,” “broken,” or “sinful,” meaningfully reduces people’s willingness to seek care.
If this is you, nothing is “wrong” with you. Your nervous system and your learning history are doing exactly what they were trained to do, which is minimize risk by staying self-reliant and quiet about needs.
Why high-demand religions and cultic groups often treat help-seeking as a problem
High-control environments typically use predictable influence patterns that make help-seeking outside the group feel dangerous or immoral:
Milieu control narrows what information is acceptable; outside counsel (therapists, physicians, even family) is framed as corrupting.
Demand for purity and doctrine over person teach members to suppress “undesirable” emotions or needs if they don’t fit the theology or leader’s rules.
“Bounded choice.” Janja Lalich describes how charismatic authority, a transcendent belief system, and systems of control/influence combine so that choices feel free but are tightly constrained. In that world, “seeking help” is only legitimate if it serves the doctrine and the leader. (Lalich Center)
Spiritual bypassing. Some groups spiritualize away distress, using faith-language to avoid real pain, so members learn to deny needs rather than address them.
Put together, these dynamics make outside help feel like betrayal and inside help conditional on conformity. Many survivors tell us this is exactly why they stayed silent so long.
How this belief can linger after you leave
Even outside the group, the body can hold on to “help = danger.” Common after-effects include:
Hyper-independence / “compulsive self-reliance.” In attachment theory, deactivating strategies down-regulate the attachment system: we deny needs, avoid closeness, and white-knuckle it alone. Researchers call this pattern compulsive self-reliance. (Adult Attachment)
Avoidant attachment and low help-seeking. Studies repeatedly link avoidant attachment with reluctance to seek psychological help, even when distressed. (Science Direct)
Internalized stigma. Years of being told that needing help is weak, sinful, or “worldly” can become your inner voice, reducing care-seeking even when support would help. (PubMed)
Spotting the leftover rules
Try naming the exact rule you internalized. Survivors often identify scripts like:
“If I need help, I am weak.”
“Other people’s needs matter; mine are selfish.”
“People who get help are less than.”
“Strong people fix it themselves.”
Once named, you can reality-check each rule against safer, more accurate beliefs (e.g., “All humans need support at times; discerning support keeps me safer.”).
Healthy Help vs. Coercive Help
Healthy support centers your agency, clear information, real choice, and the right to say no. Coercive help pressures, moralizes, withholds information, or makes belonging conditional.
Healthy help sounds like…
In families/friendships:
“Do you want comfort, brainstorming, or someone to sit with you?”
“No problem if now isn’t the time. Tell me what would feel supportive.”
“Your boundaries are valid even if I’d choose differently.”
In faith communities:
Asking “What kind of support would serve you best”
“We can organize a meal train; you pick dates, dietary needs, and how to receive it.”
“Would you like prayer, practical help, both, or neither?”
Coercive help sounds like…
In families:
“You’re being dramatic. Here is what you’re going to do.”
“After all I’ve done, you owe me the truth.”
“If you don’t follow my advice, don’t come crying to me.”
In faith communities:
“We’ll bring meals if you stop talking to former members.”
“We’ll help once you confess what you’ve done and recommit.”
“If you refuse our plan, we’ll initiate church discipline.”
Any help that is conditional on belief, obedience, and/or personal disclosure.
Using shame and/or threats to force compliance.
Help that prioritizes institutional protection over your safety.
When identity, gender norms, or culture make asking for help tricky
A lot of us were taught, directly or indirectly, that “strong people don’t need help.” Sometimes that message comes wrapped in gender roles (“be stoic”), family rules (“we don’t air our laundry”), cultural values (privacy, saving face), or spiritual language (“give it to God, not people”). If that was your world, of course asking for help still feels risky.
Why this sticks
Self-reliance gets praised. In many homes and communities, being “low-maintenance” is the gold star. The downside: people wait longer to reach out even when they are struggling. Strong self-reliance norms coupled with stigma make people less likely to seek care.
Gender expectations matter. Many of us (especially men and masculine-socialized people) were told to be tough, not tender. Studies link those “be strong, don’t need anyone” messages with lower help-seeking. (PubMed)
Culture shapes comfort. Some communities prize keeping struggles inside the family or faith circle. Others worry about language, cost, or being misunderstood by a provider. All of that makes outside help harder to access.
Tiny experiments to normalize having needs
Think of this as graded exposure to receiving care; small, reversible steps that teach your nervous system “help can be safe.”
Start with low-stakes asks. Text a trusted person and let them know you want to talk. It can be 5-10 minutes just letting them know you need help, or letting them know you are struggling.
Create a “help menu.” List 5 things others can do that actually help (e.g., “sit with me while I make the call,” “send me Tuesday check-ins,” “go on a walk with me”). When you are dysregulated, read from the menu.
Redefine strength. Swap the rule “strong = solo” for “strong = resourced.” That is not just a mantra; it can be consistent with evidence that connected support buffers stress recovery. (PubMed)
Therapy with choice and pace. If therapy is part of your plan, you are allowed to interview providers, ask about informed consent, decline any practice that feels like pressure, and go at your speed.
Notice spiritual bypassing in yourself and others. If you catch phrases like “just surrender,” “everything happens for a reason” being used to shut down real grief or anger, pause and try: “Both can be true: my values matter, and I’m hurting. What support would help right now?” (Science and Neutrality)
Bottom line
Having needs is not a failure. It is a feature of being human. If a system trained you to see needs as moral weakness or spiritual flaw, it makes sense that asking for help still feels risky. With small experiments, aligned supports, and trauma-informed care, you can build a life where help is chosen, safe, and on your terms.
Reach out if you are interested in starting therapy or want to learn more about therapy services.
Sources:
Janja Lalich, Bounded Choice: True Believers and Charismatic Cults (Book)
Janja Lalich & Madeleine Tobias, Take Back Your Life (Book)
Michael Langone (Ed.), Recovery from Cults (Book)
Disclaimer:
⚠️ The content on this blog is intended for informational and educational purposes ONLY and should NOT be considered a substitute for personal professional mental health care, diagnosis, or treatment. Reading these posts does not establish a therapeutic relationship.
If you are currently in crisis, experiencing thoughts of harming yourself or others, or are in need of immediate support, please call 911 or contact a crisis line such as the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 (U.S.) or access your local emergency services.
These blog posts are written to explore topics like trauma, religious deconstruction, cults, identity development, and mental wellness in a thoughtful and compassionate way. They may (or may not) resonate deeply, especially for those healing from complex trauma, but they are NOT meant to replace individualized therapy or medical care.
