There is a saying that I’m sure many of you have heard, “The squeaky wheel gets the grease.” It means that in order to get what you need, you have to fight for it; it won’t simply be given to you.

In the beginning, it was my parents who fought for me. In second grade, I joined a reading group. It wasn’t until a few years later that I learned it was because I was behind on my reading level and I needed extra intervention that I was not receiving from my second-grade teacher. As I got older, my parents would encourage me to stand up for myself, not just in academia, but in everyday life.

One of the biggest hurdles that I had to overcome as an adolescent was asking for help and engaging in self-advocacy. As someone with social anxiety, even the smallest amount of friction or potential friction between another human being seemed like the end of the world. Something as simple as asking for ketchup behind a fast-food counter was terrifying. My fear was so strong that even when I knew what I wanted, I wouldn’t complain and sat with my needs unmet. (Trust me, fries and fried chicken are simply never as good without ketchup.)

But it goes beyond little things like eating an unsatisfying meal because I refused to go up to the counter and ask for ketchup. It’s also big things, distressing things.

One of the clearest examples was during middle school pep-rallies. Some people enjoy these big social events and the activities that occur within them, but for me it was the very definition of hell. Stuck in uncomfortable bleachers, smashed between hundreds of hot bodies, buzzing with noise, shoulders rubbing against one another, the echoing effect of dozens of conversations bouncing off the gym walls. It was overstimulating to the point that I would curl up and plug my ears.

Never once did I ask if I could be excused from the event. Not because I didn’t think about it, but because I was terrified with any potential conflict it could possibly bring. I had an idea in my head that if I asked for help, I was somehow giving into something. I didn’t want to need a crutch, so I continued to struggle forward without anything keeping me upright or acting as a safety net. 

It wasn’t until high school that I finally decided to get a doctor’s note that excused me from these pep-rallies. The effects were revolutionary. No longer did I dread the end of the day where I would have to wait out an hour of overstimulation. I could go home and decompress from the day. 

My biggest regret was that I had not requested this pass sooner. It would have saved me from unneeded stress.

It was during this time in high school, after seeing the success that my note brought, that I started experimenting with self-advocacy in small ways, from expressing like and dislike of certain foods to walking away from a situation that I wasn’t required to be in.

This journey was what finally convinced me to go on anxiety medication. I had spent so long just being okay with what was happening around me and I was tired of not getting what I needed. 

Because of this decision, I have felt more secure in my ability to voice my wants and needs when the occasion calls for it. This small experiment showed me the importance of projecting your voice for even the simplest of things.

After allowing myself to being pulled with the flow over sharp rocks and through slimy river weeds, splashing and struggling to keep my head above the current because I believed getting a lifejacket made me less of a swimmer, I finally saw the importance of reaching out and realizing my capabilities and where I needed support.

When given the option to idly stand by and allow the world to spin around you in subpar conditions or to ask for accommodations, always ask for accommodation. It might be scary to request help, to potential rub the wrong way against someone, but in the long run, learning to tailor your environment to your needs allows for a more functional and happy you. 

About the Author

Kaz Kelly is a 2024-2027 CEL Student Scholar and a member of the leadership team for the 2024-2026 research seminar on Affirming and Inclusive Engaged Learning for Neurodivergent Students. She is majoring in psychology and English, with a concentration in creative writing.