You know what’s worse than doing it all yourself? Getting the kind of “help” that makes things harder.
It looks like this:
You ask for support, and the task gets done halfway—or so poorly you have to redo it. “I’ll handle dinner,” but they ask you where you keep the pots and pans. They feed the kids, but leave a sticky mess across the counter and a sink full of unwashed dishes. Bedtime’s “covered,” but the routine gets tossed, and now everyone’s overtired and cranky. You’re sick, but still up packing lunches. They’re on the couch resting. When you ask for help (through clenched teeth), they wonder why you didn’t ask earlier. Why you aren’t just laying down too. Suddenly, it’s your fault for being overwhelmed.
But who would have done it if you didn’t?
How would the house run without you overseeing, delegating, giving directions—or just doing it all yourself?
Half-assed help can be more harmful than no help at all. It’s emotionally exhausting to push past your own frustration just to ask nicely. To temper your tone while correcting something that feels like common sense—like not putting an empty cereal box back on the shelf, or understanding that “taking out the trash” doesn’t mean leaving it on the back porch to leak.
Weaponized incompetence shows up in all kinds of ways:
Carelessness with no regard for the impact.
Doing a bad job to avoid being asked again.
Settling for the bare minimum, knowing it doesn’t meet the needs of the people you live with.
It’s sloppy, inconsistent, and leaves one person stuck in constant vigilance. That’s not support—it’s a setup. It’s more work, not less.
Support should feel like relief, not risk.
This isn’t about perfection. It’s about showing up with care and intention. If you wouldn’t get away with that kind of effort at work, why should it fly at home? If you wouldn’t trust someone else to handle it that way, why should I be grateful for it?
This kind of “help” reinforces inequality. It sends the message: If you want it done right, do it yourself. And we know where that road leads—burnout, resentment, and disconnection.
So what’s the alternative?
We talked about this in a recent Time to Lean post on checklists and home culture, and it bears repeating: the antidote to this isn’t perfection—it’s good faith effort and enthusiastic collaboration.
That doesn’t mean loving every chore or lighting candles while you fold laundry. It means buying in. It means being interested in how your household works, how your people feel, and what needs to get done. It means putting energy toward building something together—not just doing tasks, but co-creating the life you share.
Enthusiastic collaboration looks like curiosity. Willingness. Ownership. It’s not about who “helps” who—it’s about a shared commitment to the culture of your home.
If we agree that something matters, treat it like it does. If you say I matter, treat me with consideration and care.
If any of this resonated, this episode from Time to Lean might interest you.
when is weaponized incompetence emotional abuse? from Time to Lean
Check out this video from 2021. It’s one of the first(and most viral) videos I made on the topic of weaponized incompetence.