I'm a grown woman and I spent $100 on a stuffed bear.

Not for a child. For me.

And I felt ridiculous about it. I hid it when people came over. I felt embarrassed telling my therapist. I made jokes about it to deflect from the fact that I actually, genuinely needed it.

Because somewhere along the way, we decided that adults aren't allowed to need comfort. That needing something soft to hold means you're weak or childish or not doing "the work" properly.

But here's what I learned: Comfort isn't a sign of weakness. It's a tool for survival.

This is the uncomfortable truth about needing support as an adult - and why I'm not embarrassed anymore.

THE UNCOMFORTABLE TRUTHS:

We're Taught to Outgrow Comfort When you're a kid, stuffed animals are normal. Expected, even. But somewhere around adolescence, there's this unspoken rule that you're supposed to put away childish things and tough it out. As if needing comfort is something you age out of, like training wheels.

But grief doesn't care how old you are. Anxiety doesn't check your age. Insomnia at 3am feels the same at 35 as it did at 15 - except now you're supposed to white-knuckle through it like a "real adult."

Adults Are Allowed to Have Hard Days We'll spend $100 on a dinner out without blinking. $100 on skincare. $100 on a new pair of shoes. But $100 on something that helps you feel less alone during a panic attack? Suddenly that feels frivolous.

Why? Because we've internalized this idea that self-soothing is indulgent rather than essential. That if you need help regulating your nervous system, you should be able to do it "naturally" with breathing exercises and positive thinking.

But some days, your nervous system needs more than deep breaths. Some days, you need tangible, physical comfort.

Therapy Isn't Always Enough (And That's Okay) I'm a huge advocate for therapy. It's been life-changing. But therapy is once a week for an hour. What about Tuesday at 2pm when you get triggering news? What about 3am when you can't sleep and your brain is catastrophizing?

Tools aren't a replacement for therapy - they're a complement. They're the thing that gets you through the moment until you can process it properly later.

The Price Objection Was Really Shame When I balked at the price, I told myself it was about money. But I'd just spent $80 on a nice dinner without thinking twice. The real issue wasn't the cost - it was the shame. The feeling that I shouldn't need this. That needing physical comfort meant I wasn't healing "correctly."

But here's the thing: you can be in therapy, on medication, doing all the "right" things AND still need comfort tools. They're not mutually exclusive.

Looking "Fine" Doesn't Mean You Feel Fine I'm high-functioning. I go to work. I pay my bills. From the outside, I look like I have it together. So when I told people I needed weighted sensory support, I could see the confusion. "But you seem fine?"

This is the trap of invisible struggles. Just because someone is managing their responsibilities doesn't mean they're not quietly drowning. Just because you can't see someone's anxiety doesn't mean their nervous system isn't in overdrive.

What Changed I stopped hiding it. I stopped making self-deprecating jokes about it. I started saying, out loud, "This helps me and I'm not embarrassed about that anymore. Take it or leave it."

And you know what happened? Other people started admitting they needed help too. Friends confessed they sleep with childhood stuffed animals. Colleagues admitted they use fidget tools during Zoom calls. Everyone's walking around pretending they don't need support, when the truth is - we all do.

So yes, I spent $100 on a weighted bear. And I'd do it again.

Because on the days when grief hits out of nowhere, or anxiety makes my chest tight, or I can't sleep because my brain won't shut off - I have something to hold. Something that provides the deep pressure my nervous system needs to regulate. Something beautiful that doesn't announce "THIS PERSON IS STRUGGLING" to everyone who sees it.

And there's no shame in that.

If you're reading this and feeling that same embarrassment about needing comfort - let this be your permission slip. You're allowed to need what you need. You're allowed to spend money on things that help you survive hard days. You're allowed to be an adult who still needs something soft to hold.

Comfort isn't weakness. It's wisdom.

If you're ready to stop feeling embarrassed about needing comfort, [meet Penny]. She's designed for adults who need sensory support without sacrificing style.