Recently, I found myself at a crossroads—emotionally more than professionally.
I had joined a new organization just three months ago. With dreams in my eyes and determination in my heart, I was ready to carve my space, contribute with impact, and grow. But life, as it often does, had different plans. An accident put me out of work for nearly half of that time. I came back, physically healing, mentally juggling catch-up tasks, and spiritually needing support.
And then, the incident happened.
It wasn’t a grand scenario. Just a simple work-related question. Not complex. Not layered. A yes-or-no would have done. But instead of receiving that, I was met with silence. For thirty long minutes. Then came a cryptic message—vaguely related, like a riddle from a monk in the mountains. He asked me to “derive the answer” from that statement.
And I sat there, wondering—was this help? Was this guidance? Or was this… a quiet assertion of superiority?
Let’s See Both Prospects:
Prospect 1: A Mentor in Disguise
Maybe, just maybe, he was trying to teach me how to fish instead of handing me the fish.
Maybe he believes in empowering people to find answers so they become more independent. Perhaps he himself walked the hard road, stumbled through uncertainty, and believes that strength lies in self-discovery.
In this light, his actions were a gesture of trust. He saw potential in me, even through the fog of my absence. He believed I could figure it out. And rather than spoon-feed me, he wanted me to connect the dots, to make that lightbulb moment my own. That kind of help? That’s rare. It stays with you longer than any yes or no ever could.
But belief, if not communicated well, can become a burden.
Prospect 2: The Intellectual Pedestal
On the flip side—what if it wasn’t mentorship? What if it was ego?
In professional spaces, knowledge often gets mistaken for currency, and those who hold more of it think they are richer in worth. I’ve seen it before—people withholding help not because they can’t offer it, but because they think doing so puts them at a disadvantage.
Sometimes, when you ask a question, you’re unintentionally handing someone else the power to define the moment. And some—knowingly or not—use it to establish dominance. Giving you a roundabout answer, making you jump through intellectual hoops, isn’t about guidance. It’s about control. It’s about reminding you: “You need me. I don’t need you.”
If that’s the energy in play, then the help offered is not help at all. It’s a performance of superiority.
The Bigger Truth: Power Dynamics in Help
Help is never just help. It’s loaded with intention, tone, and context. And in professional environments, where validation often comes from how much you know, asking for help can sometimes feel like exposing a chink in your armor.
But let’s be clear: asking for help is not weakness. It’s courage.
The act of seeking help reveals strength in vulnerability. The act of offering help, in turn, reveals character. One can offer help with humility—or with hubris. And the impact lies not just in what is said, but how it’s said, and why.
Conclusion: Does It Make the Helper Superior?
No. It doesn’t.
Giving help does not make anyone superior—intellectually, morally, or hierarchically. Help, in its truest form, is a bridge. Not a throne.
When someone comes to you with a question, you’re not being asked to prove your genius. You’re being invited into their story. You get to decide—will you be a guide, or a gatekeeper?
As for me, I’ve decided that I will never let knowledge turn into power over someone else. I will let it be a light. And if someone asks me for help, no matter how small, I will give it with grace. Not riddles.
Because real strength doesn’t lie in knowing everything.
It lies in lifting others when they don’t.
What do you think—when we ask for help, are we empowering a connection or unintentionally creating a power imbalance? I’d love to hear your take.
Rise Between Realities 
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