The concept of ultra-independence as a trauma response is explored in a personal account of one woman’s long struggle to accept help and support from others. “Ultra-independence is a coping mechanism we develop when we’ve learned it’s not safe to trust love or when we are terrified to lose ourselves in another,” she writes, quoting a statement from Rising Woman. “We aren’t meant to go it alone. We are wounded in relationship and we heal in relationship.”
The woman describes a lifelong pattern of doing everything herself because she did not trust others and did not feel worthy of being loved. She says she lived in constant anxiety and physical exhaustion, believing she had to handle everything alone. Ultra-independence, she explains, often comes from a protective part of the self that tries to prevent hurt, criticism, or rejection. Asking for help felt weak or needy, and she associated it with codependency.
She traces her ultra-independence to childhood experiences. As a young girl, her father would become angry when she asked for anything. By age 15 she developed anorexia, and for more than 23 years she struggled with depression, anxiety, and self-harm. At age 20 she entered a controlling relationship in which a boyfriend gave her gifts but took them back if she did not comply. He became obsessed and would wait outside her house. After she broke up with him, she made a vow never to receive anything from anyone again.
Years later, a trip to Palm Springs with a friend challenged that vow. They won $200 on a slot machine after the friend put in $20. He told her to cash out, saying she won. She tried to force the money back into his pocket, afraid that receiving it would mean she owed him and he would own her. The friend assured her he wanted nothing in return and that giving to friends and family made him happy. That conversation helped her see things differently.
Her healing began in earnest at age 40, when she started reconnecting with her own needs and feelings and working through her trauma. She learned to ask for support, though it was not easy. Some people reacted with anger, while others were happy to help. Instead of shaming herself for her independence, she made peace with the part of her that believed it did not need anyone. By listening compassionately to that part’s fears, she understood it was trying to protect her from repeating the pain of rejection and criticism she had experienced as a child and young adult.
She asked that part of herself what it really wanted. The answer was true connections and the ability to feel safe receiving support, but also fear. By giving that younger self a voice, she helped it feel loved and safe. She also began to see which people were actually trustworthy, rather than viewing everyone as unsafe based on old patterns.
Ultra-independence did help her heal from anorexia and depression, she says, because she took responsibility for her healing after years of hospitals and therapy that did not work. Still, she found it helpful to be in a loving environment with people who did not try to fix or control her. “We’re not meant to be or do life alone,” she writes, “but being alone can be comforting if we fear being hurt by others.”
The article suggests that receiving support is not about total dependence, nor is it an either-or choice with independence. Learning to connect with feelings and needs, communicate them, and make clear requests is important. For example, someone going through a challenge might say, “I’m having a hard time right now, and I would really like someone who I can talk to, someone who will just listen without trying to change me or my situation. Is that something you would be willing to do?”
A key question the author poses is: “Why is it not okay for me to receive support?” She advises sitting with that question, allowing the part of the self that resists support to show its beliefs, and listening with compassion before asking what it truly wants and needs.