Nerf Gun Wars and the Lesson of Asking for Help

The Battle That Left More Than a Bruise

Nerf gun wars were a staple in our home when my kids were little. Foam darts zipped through the air, wheezing past faces and narrowly missing eyes—which, if hit, meant the game was immediately over. Most “injuries” were minor and forgotten by dinner, but one moment has stuck with me for years.

During one of these battles, my daughter was in full sprint, trying to dodge my attack. She cut a corner around the couch too tightly and slammed her toes into the wooden leg. I heard the thud, felt the floor shake, and then came the wail of pain. When I got to her, her toes were bright red but thankfully unbroken. I held her, trying to comfort her, and gently asked, “What can I do to help?”

Without hesitation she replied, “Go get Mom.”

That made me smile, but it also made me think. Her answer was essentially the childhood equivalent of, “I want to speak to your supervisor.” She didn’t want me to fix it—she wanted the one person who, in her eyes, could make it better.

The Question That Changed Everything

For the past 15 years, I’ve had the honor of presenting to thousands of First Responders across the country. This story has become an important part of my presentation, Taking Care of Our Own. What could have been just a funny memory of a childhood injury left me with a much deeper question:

When did it stop being okay to ask for help?

Because if the roles had been reversed—if I were the one who stubbed my toes that hard—I wouldn’t have asked anyone for help. I would’ve clenched my teeth, slowed my pace, muttered “I’m fine,” and walked it off. In fact, I probably would’ve laughed it off, declaring that the kids had won the battle.

Somewhere along the way, many of us learn that showing pain isn’t acceptable. We become experts at hiding it: burying discomfort behind fake smiles, downplaying wounds, and pushing through as if nothing happened.

Why “I’m Fine” Can Be Deadly

Why do we do this? Maybe it’s the fear of being judged. Maybe it’s the belief that needing help makes us look weak or incapable. Maybe it’s a sense of unworthiness. Whatever the cause, the result is often the same—we cover our struggles instead of voicing them.

For First Responders, this instinct to hide can be particularly dangerous. The job requires command presence, quick answers, and control in the face of chaos. Even when uncertain, First Responders are expected to project confidence. And over time, that ability to appear steady and composed turns into something else: the ability to hide suffering.

Just like they can make people believe they have all the answers on a call, they can convince colleagues—and themselves—that everything is fine. But the “I’m fine” facade is often deadly. Beneath the armor of strength may lie trauma, exhaustion, or despair, all kept hidden out of fear of being perceived as weak, a liability, or unfit for duty.

Maybe the Answer Is to Be More Childlike

Maybe the answer is to return to something more childlike. When it hurts, ask for help—early and often. Vulnerability isn’t a flaw; it’s a survival skill. Dropping the armor and letting people see the real person underneath can create deeper connections and life-saving conversations.

What if instead of fearing disconnection if our peers knew the truth, we realized that our shared struggles are the very things that could bond us together? No one has all their ducks in a row. And when we embrace authenticity, we can replace isolation with stronger, more honest relationships.

The Best Career Advice Came From a Six-Year-Old

I’ll close with another lesson from my kids—this one from my son. After my law enforcement career ended abruptly, I was struggling to figure out what to do next. I asked him what job he thought I should have. He thought carefully and then said, “Dad, you should be a corn-dog seller!”

To this day, that is the best career advice I’ve ever received. Why? Because it reminded me that it’s not what you do that your family cares about—it’s who you are. Our kids don’t need us to impress them. They just need us to be present, authentic, and real.

Final Thought: Ask for Help

So maybe the most important lesson is this: sometimes the wisest teachers are our children. And sometimes the strongest thing you can do—the bravest thing you can do—is simply admit, “I need help.”

Stay safe, and take care of YOU!

If you or a family member are having any issues with mental health or relationships, please reach out for help. Responder Health (responderhealth.com) is an organization that offers resources specifically for first responders and their families. Responder Health provides confidential and full-service solutions that support first responders through stress and traumatic events, and provides them with the education, resources, and community they need to live healthy, happy lives. Our peer advocate hotline (253)243-3701 offers a confidential 24-hour crisis referral service for all public safety employees, all emergency services personnel, and their family members nationwide.