Becoming The Jerk
Why Setting Boundaries Seems Cruel — But Isn't
“Hey, can you give me a hand with this?”
It seems like a simple request for help, right? Yet stacked over time, questions like this can become a burden to the person being asked.
“If you’re not busy, can you swing by and help with a project?”
Just typing the phrase, “If you’re not busy…” gives me chills. I hate when people presume I have time to help them. I probably suffer from a bit of reciprocity anxiety (truthfully, it’s the closest term I could find on Google that describes the feeling). That urge to help — or repay someone — comes from a place of believing it’s the right thing to do.
Over time, though, I’ve discovered that there are people who feel absolutely no guilt, shame, or remorse in asking for things. I refuse to ask for help until I’ve exhausted every possible independent effort in my body and mind. Part of that comes from a desire to “do it myself.” Another part is the sense that if I ask for help, I will at some point be obligated to return the favor — and I simply don’t want that obligation.
For me, asking for help is a bigger chore than pushing through whatever obstacle I’m facing. If my car breaks down, I’ll walk rather than ask for a ride. If I’m out of money, I’ll struggle until I earn it rather than borrow from friends or family. That’s how I function, and I consider it responsibility.
The Infinite Taker Is Everywhere
Over the years, I’ve encountered what I call “infinite takers.” These people seem to enjoy the process of asking for help, getting free stuff, and being part of something — without ever actually doing anything.
In the workplace, it’s the person who asks you to cover for them while they go to the bathroom three times a night. Meanwhile, everyone else manages to go during scheduled breaks. This person gets three extra breaks a night while shamelessly asking you to do more work.
In family life, it’s the person who only calls when something needs to be done. A sofa needs moved. Their neighbor needs help with a car. They need a ride somewhere. The entire relationship is predicated on you helping them obtain what everyone else manages to handle on their own.
With friends, it’s the one who always needs a ride, always needs someone to cover their portion of the bill, or always needs help moving. Despite everyone around them figuring life out, they never seem able to do it themselves.
The Lack of Remorse Perplexes Me
What bothers me isn’t that people occasionally find themselves in need. We all do. It’s also not a lack of knowledge or ability — we’ve all been in situations where we didn’t know how to do something.
What unsettles me is the lack of remorse. I’m not even sure “remorse” is the perfect word, but it’s that internal signal that says:
“I have taken your time, money, or energy — and I feel compelled to repay that somehow.”
Google suggested “gratitude,” but that doesn’t fully capture it.
A person can feel grateful without feeling any obligation to repay the favor. You can say thank you a thousand times — and still have no hesitation asking the one-thousand-and-first time.
We all have a limit.
If you ask me to help change a tire, I’ll likely help and think nothing of it. Two weeks later, if you ask again, maybe I’m annoyed — but fine. Two weeks after that, you ask a third time, and now I’m irritated, maybe even angry. At that point, I’ll probably show up, hand you the tools, and walk you through it.
What I cannot relate to is being on the other side of that equation and feeling nothing.
If I needed help with a tire, I’d watch carefully. I’d learn. I’d make sure I never needed to ask again. If it somehow happened a second time, I would feel terrible. At that point, I would assume this could become a recurring problem — and I would fix it.
The idea of asking a third time mortifies me. The shame of not paying attention, not taking responsibility, not being independent — that’s unbearable to me. I’d rather walk to work for the rest of my life than ask someone to change all four of my tires while I stand by and watch.
The Givers Dilemma — Be the Jerk, or Be the Sucker
For the person doing the favors, this creates a strange dilemma.
The sanguine taker who loves asking for help, enjoys being around people, and feels no remorse asking over and over again? They’re fine.
They get the psychological and social benefits of community. They get energized simply by being involved. And there’s the added bonus of having meals paid for, hard work done for them, and life carried with minimal friction.
Meanwhile, the rest of us — introverted, reluctant givers — are losing hand over fist. We absorb the cost of meals, the loss of time, and the frustration of constant interruption. We carry the already heavy burden of being responsible adults — plus a portion of this leech’s responsibilities.
That leaves two choices:
Be perpetually taken advantage of — or be “the jerk.”
The person who says, “No. Not anymore. This stops here.”
The person who realizes that constant helping may actually be harmful. That it may be enabling someone to believe they can exist and take — without ever contributing.
I’ll Be The Jerk
I’ve been the person who thought:
“Maybe they’ll learn from my example.”
“Maybe if I help just one more time, they’ll understand the cost.”
I’ve lived long enough to know: they won’t.
They won’t watch you and be inspired. They won’t suddenly recognize the burden. They will never wake up and realize that by refusing responsibility, by failing to handle their own problems, they are not just taking your money or time — they are taking your life.
When I accepted that, it became easier to embrace my inner jerk.
Why?
Because in this scenario, I’m not the jerk.
I’m not shortening someone else’s lifespan.
I’m not siphoning their resources.
I’m not demanding their time so mine can be easier.
If I refused to pay a legitimate debt I owed, then yes — I’d be a jerk. But telling someone to fix their own tire, pay for their own meal, or find their own way to work isn’t cruelty.
It’s boundaries.
It’s protecting limited time and finite energy from someone who has shown no intention of respecting either.
Conclusion
It’s easy to read this and think I’m a curmudgeon. That might be partly true. But there’s a real tension here — between genuine generosity and being exploited.
The goal isn’t to stop being kind.
The goal is to strike a balance:
Help those who truly need help.
Push those who can help themselves to rise to the occasion.
When we can hold that line — we become Uncredible.
Music for voice over by Jeremusic70 on Pixabay.