And who's there?

It sounds like a line after hearing “Knock, knock”, but it isn’t. It’s a question my brain has been asking for over a year. No joke. Interestingly, the answer changes each time I ask it. 

I get so frustrated when people tell me they don’t need others while they live among a crowd of family, friends, and colleagues. Many of them are also partnered and have a built-in level of support sleeping next to them each night. That is not my life. 

My life requires asking a lot. Being told no a lot. Trying again. And hoping for the table to turn and for someone to offer. If they do, I almost never decline the chance to feel close, even if for just a brief moment.

I hate admitting that I have needed a lot of support in this last year. It's embarrassing. At my age, I should have life more figured out. I should have built and maintained a stable environment that gives me something to lean on when adulthood gets shaky. Well, I didn’t. Not intentionally. I tried in ways that I could. In ways I knew how. But there was constantly a new interruption to that plan. 

Sometimes, the things you build are taken from you without permission. And although unplanned loss often leaves me trying to decipher the why, my pain is not a reflection of my worth, my ambition, or my character. In turn, my need for others when stability crumbles is also not because I lost control. Sometimes, this is life. This is my life.

The same people who claim to not need anyone often think I don’t need anyone either. They say I am enough. I can provide it all for myself. Love yourself and the rest will fall into place. Guess what? I do love myself and I am still waiting for more. I live every day without a family. That’s not new. I have been without a partner for more than a year and in some ways for several. I chose to spend months without colleagues, but I did so without knowing how badly I would want to be near people. 

Friends, I am learning, are there. In their own ways. They can’t do it all, but they can do something. And they do. Thank God they have and continue to be there for me. I have learned to look beyond just my closest friends to see the way other people hold me up, whether they’re aware or not.

So, who’s there?

The friend who spontaneously calls to go for coffee. It’s supposed to be a working date. Applying for jobs, preparing a presentation, organizing some data. Often it’s me telling the latest in the saga that is my life. They tell me to focus. I try to focus. We bond. And do it again next week.

The dog who couldn’t keep walking until I allowed him to give me at least one kiss.

The person who reliably calls and checks on me. The one who doesn’t always have a story to tell but always listens to the story I want to tell. I ramble. They listen. They ask questions to understand. And they’ll call back tomorrow too.

The security guard who is patient because he sees how overwhelmed I am.

Everyone who takes a walk with me. There are many. It’s one of my favorite things to do. It’s a walk in the neighborhood, at a park, to a restaurant, in the city, or wherever else our feet steer our hearts. 

The friend who not only lets me talk, but who also lets me cry. Sometimes loudly without restraints. Sometimes for a really long time.

The person who suspects I might like watermelon and offers me some. Twice. 

All of the people who make sure I get home safely. The walks to my car. The walks to my house. The texts at the end of the night. The check-ins the next day.

The person who brings her own yard care tools and spends a hot afternoon getting the backyard cleaned up. Weed eating, sweeping, edging. Picking up leaves, sticks, and dog poop.

The bus driver who gives me tips on navigating public transportation.

The friend who tries something new because she knows I really don’t want to do the activity alone. At the same time, she invites me out of my comfort zone and reassures me she’s by my side.

The guy in Midtown who told me I am beautiful.

All of the people who send me Instagram posts that make them laugh, make them cry, and make them think of me. And those who like and comment on mine because they make me feel less alone.

The friend who notices that my silence can be dangerous. She doesn’t keep track of who messaged whom last. It’s care, not a scorecard.

Everyone who consistently says “I got you” and means it. Those words are like a tight hug and a signal that something great is about to happen all in one.

The friend who generously donates a therapy session. 

The hair stylist who time and time again makes sure I look my best and feel confident on my budget. The same person lets me be 100% myself every time I sit in her chair.

The friend who sends me job postings because she understands that being on the market is exhausting if you’re doing it alone. And sometimes thinking outside the box helps. And other times she sees me somewhere I hadn’t yet imagined.

The salesman who thought I was 34 years old. Bless his heart.

The friends who let me laugh hysterically because they know how badly my soul needs the levity of the moment. 

The people who drive out of their way to pick me up and drop me off when my car isn’t running.

The neighbor who hugs me after therapy.

Although some days I feel so alone, I have to take moments to intentionally remind myself that I am, in fact, not alone. I may not have a family on holidays or a partner to cuddle at night, but their absence doesn’t mean there is no one there. There are definitely people there for me. In fact, too many to name and too many examples to list. People show up when asked, and they show up when they know what they can offer. Sometimes, people show up and don’t even realize what an impact they have made.

To the people who have loved and supported me or even just made me feel seen, thank you. Because of you, I can answer the question, “Who’s there?”

I am. I am here.