I was with a friend this past Saturday and he said something poignant to me. He said, “You are great at giving advice to people.  You are terrible at asking for it. Why don’t you let people in?”

He’s known me since I was 14.  25 years.

It sloshed around inside my brain for the last few days.

Until tonight when it firmly landed.

I had the good fortune of running into friends as I was grabbing some solo sushi and a glass of wine.  Seeing an empty seat, I easily slid myself beside them and we proceeded to quickly catch-up.

It didn’t take long before I realized that one of my girlfriends at the table was in a state of crisis.  And despite the threat her emotions were making to spill out of her eyeballs right then and there, that she didn’t want to talk about.  

Until she did.

She was super sad.  There were tears. There was hurt.  There was anger.

All I could do was listen to her with my ears and send her love with through my eyes.  She needed, and deserved, so much love. For over an hour, she released. The intensity in her words elicited my complete attention.  

This is a woman who I admire deeply.  We have known each other for many years, but several years ago, she shared her personal story in front of a group of women at a leadership forum.  

What she said that night moved me.  

She inadvertently became a single mom when her husband suddenly left their family.  She had to go back to work. She took jobs with bosses she loathed in order to feed her daughters.  She built a new life for the three of them. She was, is, stunningly beautiful, hard-working, deeply loving, wildly smart, and utterly no-nonsense.  She’s my superhero.

And here we were, in a local restaurant, eyes filled with tears, glasses drained, locked with one another talking about the turmoil that was her life over the last four weeks.  

Then it dawned on me.  

Four weeks.

I had asked her a few questions as I listened intently.  They ranged from “So what now?” to “What did she say to that?” to “How did that make you feel?” to finally, “How have you been taking care of yourself for the last month? Who have you been leaning on?”  

Her answer.

No one.

In that moment, I’m sure my skin turned pale and a gray hair sprung up, unwieldy, from my center-part.

This is a self-made leader.  She has a steady circle of girlfriends.  She has a devoted partner. She has an expansive network.  And, yet… no one.

If we know each other, there are things that you understand about me.  I love my family, my church, my work, my friends, my town, and my coffee – black.

But there are things that you might not understand about me.

You might not understand the moments when I sobbed, in a ball, on the floor of my walk-in closet.  The times that I fell to my knees in anguish before God. Times when I drove aimlessly. Walked aimlessly.  Ran aimlessly. The hours that I couldn’t will myself to get out of bed.

You might not understand that there are times when I feel completely alone.  

In an instant of self-reflection, everything halted.  

The bottom line was that I could not change a thing in this woman’s life.  What was happening was happening and I had no pearls of wisdom that were going to course-correct the situation for her.  I could listen. I could love. And I will always do those things. But selfishly, I had to know why she hadn’t considered reaching out to the people she called friends over the course of the previous 30 days.  

Staring deeper into my eyes, knowing I would understand exactly what she was about to say, she answered, “Everyone has their own stuff to deal with.”

With my hand on her knee, and my words as slow and steady as I could make them, I explained how we are in one another’s lives for moments exactly like these.

To be honest, I think that I was saying it more for my benefit than hers.

Ladies, I need you.

There have been moments as a mother that I have needed you.  There have been moments as a wife that I have needed you. There have been moments as a daughter, a sister-in-law, a leader, that I have needed you.  And yet I recognized in my friend’s eyes that I have been unable to lean into you.

What stops us?  Pride? Ego? Conditioning?  

Yes.

The truth is that my life is a blessing.  I have so few challenges – or if I do, I do not see them as such.  However, that doesn’t mean that I do not struggle. I wake up every day wanting to be a better mother than I was the day before.  To not make the same mistake I made with my sons yesterday. I wake up wanting to be a better wife. To devote myself to my husband and to never want for something more.  Or different.

I have made a few mistakes.

One is not asking for help.

And the other is asking for help from the wrong people.

If you’ve read other posts I’ve written, you know that I am divorced my from sons’ father.  In that particular case, we did both of those things – we didn’t ask for help, in general, but on the occasions we did, we asked the wrong people.  I distinctly recall one of my closest friends asking me what I hadn’t pulled anyone in. That has always stuck with me. Why hadn’t I? What would have been different?

I am a mom.  I love my children fiercely.  And…I have screamed at the top of my lungs at them. I have said unkind, hurtful things.  I have totally lost my cool. And some days, it takes everything I have in me to not pack a small bag and quietly plan my escape to the Caymans.  Worse still, there are other days, when I have thought that they’d be better off without me. Days when I have blown it so badly, that recovery seems impossible.  

Do you know how many women I have looped in to talk me off the proverbial ledge?  

Zero.

I am a wife.  For the second time.  And I love my husband. He is a kind and wonderful man.  And I am, admittedly, a grass-is-always-greener sort of woman.  When things are good, they are so, so good. When they aren’t, I am sure that they would be in the Caymans.  

There have been times, despite his best efforts, that I deeply believe that he wouldn’t skip a beat if our relationship ended.  

He’d certainly have less galas to attend and probably a smaller property tax bill.

Do you know how many women I have talked to about my insecurities and marital fears?

Nada.

When I’m clear, I know that these are just toxic thoughts running expeditiously around in my brain for a hot minute – or sometimes looming quietly for long periods of time.  I can recognize that they have no power unless I give it to them. I can put my big girl pants on and know that I’m pretty put together. I am incredibly fortunate. I am healthy. I am loved. I am talented.  I am committed. I am overflowing with faith.

And despite it all, there are moments when, ladies, I need you.

And if I need you, my guess is that maybe – sometimes – you need me.

As my friend at the beginning of this all said, you calling on me is completely within my wheelhouse.  I will listen intently. I will pray wholeheartedly. I will clear my schedule and focus my attention.

But, ladies, it is really, really hard for me to ask the same from you.

And if it is hard for me, my guess is that maybe – sometimes – it is hard for you.

I commit to being available with and for anyone who needs a soft place to land.  Further still, I commit to opening myself to the possibility of landing softly on you.  I commit to being vulnerable and honest because, truth be told, I have needed you throughout the seasons of my life – and I’ll need you again.

Who needs you today, and perhaps more importantly, who do you need?