They trained us that each has to fend for themselves.
Dig themselves out.
Pull themselves up by their own bootstraps.

They created a system where there is no real support.
Isolation by design.
Distraction by default.
Every person alone in their own pit.

My daughter said it plainly to me: "You have to do all of it on your own."

I had to stop and think about that. She didn't come up with that on her own. That's programming. That's the system speaking through her. That's what they trained her to believe.

And maybe you've heard it too.

What "Pull Yourself Up" Really Means

When someone tells you to pull yourself up by your bootstraps, here's what they're actually saying:

Your struggle is your problem.
Your survival is your responsibility.
Your success is your own doing.
Your failure is your own fault.
I owe you nothing.
No one owes you anything.
Figure it out alone.

I don't know about you, but I've heard that my whole life. And I've come to see it's not wisdom. It's cruelty dressed as advice. It's the comfortable telling the struggling to just try harder.

What the System Created

Look at what we got instead of what we needed:

We got isolation instead of community.
Independence instead of support.
Pulling yourself up instead of lifting each other.
Every person alone instead of shared burden.
You sink or swim instead of we rise together.
Pointing fingers instead of helping hands.
Blaming the weak instead of carrying them.

They made it hard on humanity. And I don't think that's an accident. Isolated people are easier to control. Desperate people don't organize. Lonely people just try to survive.

The Trust Problem

They created so much distrust that now:

You can't ask for help.
You won't accept help.
You don't believe help exists.
You think needing help makes you weak.
You assume everyone is out for themselves.
You expect to be used, not helped.
You've learned that no one is coming.

Have you felt that? I have. For most of my life.

And here's what gets me the most. When people finally get out, they forget. They forget the fire. They forget the pit. They forget what it felt like to be alone.

They get where they were going and they don't look back. They don't say "here, let me lift you." They just move on.

What the Bible Says About This

I've been reading the Bible differently lately. Not the way they taught it in church. The way it actually reads.

"Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." — Galatians 6:2

Notice it doesn't say "carry your own." It doesn't say "pull yourself up." It doesn't say "figure it out alone."

Carry each other's. That's community. That's support. That's the opposite of what the system built.

And this one hits hard:

"If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person?" — 1 John 3:17

No pity. No help. No reaching back. How can the love of God be in that person?

I'm starting to think it can't.

What Real Community Looks Like

To me, real community sounds like this:

I see you in the pit.
I'm coming down to get you.
Here, take my hand.
Let me carry part of that.
We're getting out together.
And when I'm out, I'm coming back for others.

Not "I made it, good luck."
Not "you should have tried harder."
Not "I did it alone, so can you."

That's not strength. That's amnesia. That's forgetting where you came from. That's the system winning.

The Saddest Part

The saddest part is when everyone gets there and forgets where they came from. They don't say "here, let me lift you from the fire."

They just move on. Build their walls. Protect their comfort. Forget the flames.

And the fire keeps burning. And new people keep falling in. And no one reaches back.

Here's What I'm Learning

When you believe you have to do it alone. When you refuse to help others. When you forget where you came from. When you pull yourself up and leave everyone else in the pit.

The system wins. Not because it's strong. Because it trained you to be alone.

I don't want to be that person. I don't want to forget. I don't want to move on and leave everyone else behind.

That's why I'm building what I'm building. Not to pull myself up. To lift others. To name the isolation. To expose the trap. To be someone who says "here, let me help."

That's not the system. That's the opposite. And I think that's the only thing that actually saves people.