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The last time I tried a “do-it-yourself” project, it was a miserable failure. The tools I needed for the project were a circular saw, a nail gun, and a can of polyurethane—none of which I owned. The spatial diagram was confusing and color-coded, but I pushed forward anyway. Making substitutions and shortcuts along the way, I strained to fashion a homemade headboard, but instead ended up with a warped, hundred-and-fifty-pound mass of wood littered with exposed nails.

I dragged the mass across new hardwood floors, leaving terrible scratches behind, and after days of frustration and more than one nasty splinter, the guest room was supposed to be complete. But looking over my uneven handiwork that creaked loudly against the plaster walls, I wondered, where was the perfectly polished magazine-quality furniture I was promised in the instructions? Where did I go wrong?

We live in a world that values independence and ingenuity. You can do anything you put your mind to, we’re told. The only thing standing in your way is you, they cheer. And despite much evidence to the contrary, when it comes to my skill as a carpenteress, I believed them. I didn’t have the proper tools, workspace, or even help to move the headboard into the room! But for me, the ability to say, “look what I did!” was more important than my safety or the quality of what I produced.

I blame this phenomenon, in part, on the internet. One look around on the web, and you’ll find a host DIY projects waiting for your amateur hand. (One Google search for DIY resulted in over a billion hits in 0.27 seconds.) In addition to pies, casseroles, and meticulously styled salads, the photo-overloaded world now has a new place to show off murals, home decor, and furniture that you can create all by yourself. But the internet isn’t fully to blame. The brilliance of photo-sharing sites like Facebook, Pinterest, and Instagram is that they are playing on my innate need to feel accomplished, appreciated and special. If I did something all on my own, it satisfies this thirst I have to be outstanding—in the literal sense. I want to stand out, apart from anyone else.

At the same time, the world that applauds the crafty DIY-ers also praises experts who’ve invested time and energy into a singular craft. Top chefs compete their way to the zenith of culinary greatness. Articles are written about talented musicians, expert interior designers, and long-suffering artists. These are the people we long to become—the stand outs. And the funny thing is, these are the same people who’ve forfeited the need to be great at everything. Instead, they are hyper-focused on one area where they are particularly gifted. And chances are they didn’t get to the top alone. They surrounded themselves with other talented people, gleaned wisdom, learned the craft, and worked together towards a common goal.

The rest of us see this dichotomy and hear a very mixed up message calling out from all around and within us. Be an expert and do it all.

Here’s what I’ve discovered: I can’t.

Life is too short for me to waste a day suffering over wood, glue, and nails all by myself. I don’t want to be a carpenter. And guess what? That’s okay. Why not spend time with my friend Dave, who has all the tools, all the experience, and a god-given gift in woodworking? By laboring together, I can understand the full worth of his skill, rather than trying to create what doesn’t exist in me. The end product will be more beautiful. The road to getting there will be less rocky, too. And at the end of the day, I’ll have created more than just a headboard. I’ll have created a friendship.

The truth is, most things in life cannot follow phony DIY logic. Fruitful relationships, successful businesses, and even beautifully designed homes bring together the best from everyone involved to make a masterpiece. When we’re released from the burden to do everything alone, we’re free to share our best gifts. And that’s a relief.

Because I can’t do it myself. And I no longer want to.

Image by Ashton Swan Photography