What Does It Mean to Be a Helper?
We use the word helper a lot. Teachers, social workers, nurses, parents, neighbours, volunteers—all of these roles and many more fall under that umbrella. But what does it really mean to be a helper?
When I think about the word helper, I think about more than just job titles. Yes, I’m a social worker and therapist, but being a helper goes beyond my role. It’s about how I show up for people in my work, my family, and my community. Helpers are the ones who notice when someone is struggling, who sit with others in their pain, and who walk alongside them—not because they have all the answers, but because they care.
Being a helper, for me, has always been about connection. It’s about creating spaces where people feel seen and supported. Sometimes that means providing therapy, sometimes it’s advocating for systemic change, and sometimes it’s as simple as checking in on a friend who looks tired.
But here’s what I’ve learned: helping also carries weight. Helpers often put others first, and it’s easy to run on empty. I’ve had times in my career where I was stretched thin, and I know many of you have too. That’s why I believe part of being a responsible helper is learning to care for ourselves, not just others. If we don’t, the work becomes unsustainable.
There’s also a bigger picture we can’t ignore. Helpers often work in systems—schools, hospitals, agencies—that don’t always support them well. Long hours, high caseloads, limited resources—these take a toll. That’s why when I talk about helpers, I don’t just want to thank them. I want to ask: How can we create communities that care for helpers as much as helpers care for others?
To me, being a helper means showing up with empathy and humility, while remembering that I am not the fixer in anyone’s story. I am a partner, a witness, and sometimes a guide. It means honouring the humanity of others while also honouring my own.
So when we celebrate helpers, let’s do more than applaud their resilience. Let’s also commit to supporting them, reducing stigma around mental health, and building systems that make it possible for helpers to thrive. Because when helpers are cared for, everyone benefits.
Truths about being a helper:
Helping doesn’t mean fixing. You can support someone without solving their problems. Sometimes your presence and listening are the most powerful help.
Your limits matter. You can only give what you have. Ignoring your own needs can make you less effective, not more.
Helpers carry unseen weight. You absorb emotions, stories, and struggles that aren’t yours. Recognizing this is part of staying healthy.
Growth is ongoing. Being a helper doesn’t mean having all the answers. It means learning, reflecting, and adjusting as you go.
Practical Advice for helpers:
Set clear boundaries. Decide what you can and cannot take on. Boundaries protect both you and the people you help.
Take care of yourself. Rest, nutrition, and emotional check-ins aren’t optional—they help you show up fully for others.
Listen more than you speak. People often need to be heard, not fixed. Give space for their feelings without rushing to solutions.
Reflect on your impact. Check in regularly: Are your actions helping or unintentionally hurting? Adjust when needed.
Ask for support. Being a helper doesn’t mean doing it alone. Peer support, supervision, or mentorship strengthens your work.
Keep learning. Tools, strategies, and understanding evolve. Stay open to growth to help ethically and effectively.
Honor your limits with compassion. Saying “no” or stepping back doesn’t make you a bad helper—it keeps your work sustainable.
"When we give cheerfully and accept gratefully, everyone is blessed." —Maya Angelou
