Back in 1989 when I first asked for professional help to deal with my suppressed grief, I had no idea how significant that decision would be. In fact, I now know that one choice has shaped my entire life for the last three decades.
Being an insecure child, and one who liked to do things her way, I certainly didn't grow up knowing how to ask for help. As I got older, this only worsened, and although I managed to turn the stubborn label I'd been given into a positive (instead naming it as determination), I struggled to know which way to turn or what to do in many situations.
Are you ready to ask for help?