Finding Purpose in Giving

With all of my flaws, I like to think that I’m a giver. I’m usually the go to person when family or friends are in need. But I’ve come to the realization that helping family just isn’t as rewarding as helping strangers.

Family and friends more times than not don’t really appreciate the things you do until you tell them no. Not that I’m looking for anyone to jump through any hoops when I do something for them, but I don’t want attitude and/or to be talked about like a dog when I say no.

I just feel like giving to someone you don’t know means more because the person didn’t ask or isn’t expecting to get help from you.

I’ve found purpose in giving to those who really need my time, and/or my money. I’ve always felt kind of used when helping out family and friends especially in the case of family. It’s so easy for family in my experiences to forget when you were that clutch person in their time of need. Like I said I’m not looking for an award for helping my family or friends I just don’t want to feel like an asshole for doing what’s right.

In saying all of that I’ve decided to actively pursue opportunities to help in my community, my first two prospects are The Covenant House PA (helping the homeless youth in Philadelphia) and Big Brothers, Big Sisters. I want to do more and feel good about what I’m doing. I don’t have much in the finance department to give, but I can give a lot of my time, especially for a great cause.

T

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3 thoughts on “Finding Purpose in Giving

  1. I think what you’re doing is great. And I agree… family and friends always seem to take advantage of the bond, and act like you owe them. It seems so easy for people to just say, “You have to do this for me, we’re family/friends.” Most of my family and close friends acted like I was just supposed to be constantly doing things for them, and it never seemed to end. And god forbid I couldn’t do something for them even once, suddenly they’d tell me I’d never helped them. But whenever I’ve randomly helped a stranger out, they’ve seemed way more appreciative. I remember one time I paid a person’s bus fare, and she cried while thanking me. I was embarrassed, but I was glad to be able to help. That same day, I returned home to be yelled at for not putting “enough” red peppers in a salad, by an adult who wasn’t willing to make it for them-self. It really made me think about gratitude, and who actually needed my help.

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