How Charity Saved Me, And Nearly Broke Me

By Kim Davenport, LMHC, LCAC

It was charity that was my saving grace and my undoing. In 2015, the trajectory/focus of my world changed and it was dire. 

My eight-year-old son was diagnosed with brain cancer. Ten-hour brain surgery. A year and a half of chemotherapy. Every single day, I woke up with the same thought: my child has a brain tumor. It was relentless. It consumed me.

In raising funds and awareness for a charity, I was able to shift that focus from my family’s circumstances to other families who were in need. I found that our charitable act of sharing our story was empowering and offered us an element of control. 

I nominated my son to be a Riley Champion, and suddenly we weren’t just surviving cancer. We were showing up at dance marathons, telling our story, standing alongside other families who were fighting battles of their own. It gave us purpose in the middle of chaos.

I also bore witness to the stories and suffering of other families, which allowed me to see the blessing of our situation. 

I will never forget listening to another family share their story and turning to my husband and saying, “Wow. Thank God our son has a brain tumor.” When you can say something like that in the middle of hell, it changes you. It shifts your lens. It teaches you that gratitude can coexist with devastation.

Giving back, helped us persevere and experience gratitude in the eye of the storm.

Charity gave me somewhere to put my pain. It allowed me to get out of my own head and be intentionally present with others in theirs. And in doing so, I found perspective. I found strength. I found gratitude.

One of the charitable organizations that supported us has the slogan of “Never, never, never give up.” This remains a principle that I lean on.

When things turned dire again in 2021, my brain automatically knew what to do. By that time, giving of myself was a hardwired coping skill. So as my world was collapsing, I pushed myself harder to give more and more. I pushed myself until I broke. Emotionally, mentally and physically, thus robbing me of my ability to give.

You would think that because I am a therapist, I would know better. But here is the truth: coping skills can become overused. What once saved you can eventually deplete you if it is not balanced. Giving became my distraction. Giving became my avoidance. And eventually, giving became my downfall.

In loving others and meeting their needs, I neglected myself. I was so busy filling everyone else’s cup, mine was bone dry. 

I talk about “the cup” with my clients all the time. We cannot pour from an empty cup. And yet so many of us try. Especially caregivers. Especially parents. Especially those of us wired to help. We give and give and give, and then we wonder why we are resentful, exhausted, anxious, or numb.

It took having my cup shatter in a million pieces to get my attention and learn one of life’s hardest lessons. We must prioritize ourselves, period. We cannot engage in charity unless we are also taking care of ourselves in the process.

Charity without boundaries is not sustainable. Compassion without self-compassion will burn you out. Even Jesus rested. Even the strongest among us need restoration.

Most of my clients have lost their cup and their will to fill it. Or they do not deem themselves worthy of filling their cup. 

I see this every single week in my office. People who secretly believe they are unworthy. People who have internalized the message somewhere along the way that they are “too much,” “not enough,” or fundamentally flawed. Trauma plants that seed early. Addiction reinforces it. And over time, it becomes a core belief: I am bad. I am unlovable. I do not deserve peace.

Well folks, we are ALL deserving of peace, love and joy in abundance.

I believe, with my whole heart, that every single person is inherently good. Addiction may cause us to compromise our morals. Trauma may distort our self-image. But at our core, we are good. My job is to help people find their way back to that truth.

Come, let me teach you how to fill your cup and keep it full.

That might look like setting boundaries and learning that “no” is a complete sentence. It might look like disengaging from a toxic conversation. It might look like buying yourself a Christmas present for the first time in your life. It might look like doing one small thing every day that brings you joy — not because you earned it, but because you inherently deserve it.

Charity begins with you.

When you cherish yourself, when you move from self-loathing to self-love, your giving becomes healthier, steadier, and more authentic. You are no longer giving to prove your worth. You are giving from fullness. And that is a very different kind of charity.

If you’d like to learn more about working with Kim, and schedule a complimentary 15-minute consultation, please click here.