Confession: I’m Tired of Helping My Neighbors

I recently moved into a new neighborhood where everyone is involved in each others’ lives. (Picture picket fences, etc.) I’ve noticed that when a neighbor needs to borrow something, like a snow shovel, they come to my door. In particular, there’s an older woman who lives alone across the street and seems to think that I’m her personal assistant. She’ll come over uninvited to ask for things every week or so, like to take her dog out to pee when she has an appointment, or even to reach things that are high up in her garage. She does bring me baked goods, which is nice. But cynically, I feel like she does it so that I can’t say no when she asks for favors in return. I have a physical outdoor job, and when I come home I just want to relax and protect my peace. I don’t want to be rude, but how much am I actually obligated to help people just because I live near them?

Surely, your elderly neighbor is baking you cookies in an insidious plot to put you in her debt, but joke’s on her—you never signed a contract! The answer to your question, clearly, is that you’re not obligated to help her at all. People aren’t credit card companies, measuring all interactions based on who owes what to whom, with a guarantee that at the end of the day we’ll all end up exactly even (or ahead). You can accept your neighbor’s cookies, but refuse to reach things off her top shelf. You’ll probably get fewer cookies over time, but that’s not because you haven’t earned them. It’s because she’ll assume that you don’t like her very much.

From my perspective, it doesn’t seem like this neighbor is taking advantage of you. The help she’s requested isn’t particularly time consuming, nor has she asked for anything she could reasonably hire someone to do. Sure, she could stand on a chair and reach things herself, but if she’s disinclined to do that, it’s probably because she knows something about her balance that you don’t. These are exactly the kinds of things that we should be relying on friends and neighbors for—and if the ask isn’t onerous (and sometimes even if it is), then yes, I believe we should all try to chip in when we can. Even you.

It may be that you’re overworked right now, and feeling extra irritable because you’re stressed and tired. If that’s the case, I think it’s a reason to lean on community more, not less. That’s exactly why your neighbor brings you cookies! She wants you to know that she’s thinking of you, and that she cares. Not just about what you can do for her, but about who you are and how you’re doing. If you fell and broke both of your legs, and you couldn’t take her dog out anymore, I’m 99 percent sure she would keep bringing you baked goods. In fact, she’d probably bring you more.

I’m curious what you mean when you say that you want to protect your peace. Does “peace” mean sitting in your house, undisturbed, free from considering the inconvenient needs of the people around you? What would it look like if everyone protected their peace the same way you do? What if you need a snow shovel one day, because your car is buried and you need to dig it out before you can get to the store to buy one? Your peace isn’t just yours; it’s contingent on living in a world where people have what they need, and part of that means that communities and neighbors are able to rely on each other.

Unless, of course, your peace is just yours—and it’s something you’ve learned to guard fiercely because no one else has protected it for you. If you’ve spent your life being taken advantage of, then it makes sense that you’d develop a laser-focus on self-protection, and would come to view apparently generous interactions through a lens of suspicion. If that’s the case, I’m truly sorry. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. You’re welcome to continue focusing on yourself alone, especially if it’s how you’ve learned to survive. But if there’s some spark in you that does crave an interdependent community, but feels vulnerable or afraid, then perhaps this new neighborhood presents a small opportunity to heal. I wonder if you even sensed this ahead of time, and were drawn to living here for that very reason.

One way to change your experience, ironically, is to learn to accept kindness. Even when that feels scary, because if it ends, you’ll be alone again. Enjoying your neighbor’s cookies doesn’t mean that you’re dependent on her generosity. It means you’re peering through the doorway into a world that’s full of cookies. A world where kindness is passed freely, without suspicion. To you. And from you, too.

There are an infinite number of ways to build that kindness. Instead of just lending a snow shovel, offer to come help dig. Hold a door for someone. Toss back a frisbee that comes your way. Or just smile and say, “Sure, I can reach something off your top shelf. It’s no problem. And why don’t I bring over some hot chocolate, too?”

Blair Braverman writes our Tough Love column. Previously, she has given advice on dealing with a weird neighbor.