Grit Doesn’t Mean Going it Alone

My husband and I were vacationing on the beach, enjoying the waves and the warm ocean water, a welcome change from the Southern Utah desert we call home. While playing in the water, we noticed a woman in trouble motioning for help. The waves had carried her too far out on an inflatable floatie, and she was unable to make it back to shore.

We swam after her, not thinking ahead about how we would help. Luckily, a jet-skier came to her rescue, and we assisted as he helped her onto the jet ski. Before leaving, he asked if we were okay. We assured him that we were, and he drove off, taking the woman to safety.

As we began swimming back toward shore, we realized we had exhausted ourselves on the rescue swim, and the shore was much farther away than we had realized. We kept paddling our arms and kicking our legs to no avail; the shore wasn’t getting any closer. It was too embarrassing to call out for help. After all, we were the ones who had headed out confidently on a rescue mission to save someone else. It wouldn’t be right for the rescuers to need rescuing!

After dropping the woman off at the shore, the jet-skier circled back and picked up my husband, noticing his signal for help. Since I had gotten farther ahead than him on the swim and had made no indication that I was struggling, it was assumed that I was fine, and they rode off. My legs and arms grew more and more weary with each stroke until my body went completely numb. I was so close to shore, and yet one more stroke felt impossibly far away. It was a lonely feeling, left to myself in that predicament. The salt in my eyes was a mixture of tears, sweat, and ocean water. I was determined not to give up, but my strength had failed me. By pure grit and a miracle, I staggered out of the water, completely depleted.

Looking back on the situation, I’ve learned a valuable lesson. While grit is one of my strengths, I realized it has also been my downfall whenever it became my default response, even when it no longer served me. It reflects how I’ve moved through life: determined, yet too often choosing to face the riptides alone, staying caught in the treacherous currents far longer than necessary.

No matter how broken down or fatigued I felt, asking for a lifeline somehow seemed harder than simply digging deeper and relying on my individual grit. Grit is admirable, but it should never come at the cost of our well-being. When we’re pushed beyond our limits, it can be difficult to recognize that help is available and within reach. Whatever the reason for trying to carry everything alone, wearing yourself down to the point of numbness isn’t sustainable, healthy, or the way forward. If there’s one thing the school of hard knocks has taught me, it’s this: reaching for a lifeline at the first sign of struggle is far wiser than waiting until you’re drowning. Strength isn’t found only in enduring the current; it’s also found in knowing when to accept the help back to shore.

Angela Duckworth, the expert and author of Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance, said it well: “Grit isn’t something you develop alone; it’s supported by the people who refuse to let you quit on a bad day.” Grit doesn’t mean treading water until you exhaust yourself; it entails finding a support team to buoy you up. Undoubtedly, there will be troubled waters that lie ahead, yet navigating the worst of currents can feel attainable when buoyed by love and support, even on the worst of days.

Research on achievement and resilience generally suggests that grit is most effective when paired with supportive relationships.

Grit Alone
• Can lead to isolation, depression, and loneliness.
• Carries a higher risk of burnout and exhaustion.
• Limits perspective.
• May slow progress.

Grit with Support
• Increased stamina and endurance.
• Additional perspectives and insight.
• Greater emotional stability.
• Higher likelihood of success.
• Stronger relationships and connections.

Tips for Building Supportive Grit
• Believe you are valuable and worthy of love, time, and support.
• Break down walls and accept love.
• Recognize your limitations and ask for help early.
• Practice asking for feedback.
• Build a support team before you need one.
• Ask for support with a project or goal.

Looking back, I no longer remember the embarrassment of signaling for help nearly as much as I remember the lesson the ocean taught me. There are seasons when courage means pressing forward, and there are seasons when courage means reaching out. We were never meant to face every riptide alone. True grit isn’t measured by how long we can struggle in silence, but by having the wisdom to accept the hand that helps us safely back to shore.