load-bearing walls

If we're lucky we have a trifecta--a run of three good things--in our lives. Sometimes a twist of fate brings a trifecta of pain into our days. Recently, I had some setbacks, heartaches, and even a bad bout of winter flu. While I didn't succumb (publicly) to full-on whining, I definitely didn't feel like my normal, resilient self. What surprised me was the number of people who saw me as strong, and even infallible, and therefore couldn't seem to comprehend any other aspect of me.  That should be a compliment, you might think. But it didn't feel that way. It felt dismissive and scary, like I was yelling from far, far distance: "Hey! Over here! I need you!"

I don't want to trivialize the service of the folks who comforted me, the ones who brought me soup, juice and coconut water, and the really close friends who mopped up my tears. I am deeply grateful. And here are some direct quotes — albeit complimentary! — of things you shouldn't say to someone who is deep in the mire:

"You're one of those hardy sorts — you'll bounce right back!"

"Ah, you're such a durable, sunny creature, I can't imagine this will last."

"You're wearing your heartbreak on your sleeve, girlfriend, and that's not like you."

"You're the greatest, most vigorous, most buoyant woman..."

After I got done throwing dishes, these comments made me commit to do two things.  One, make sure I'm open and honest about the depth of my need and vulnerability (check out Brene Brown's now-famous TED talk on this issue) when I'm experiencing it (and not after).  There is always a limit to how much anyone wants to play the hero (great song by Family of the Year from Boyhood). Even heroes need to take a nap now and then. And two, take stock of the people in my life whose strength I count on… and call them with a voice of support. Just in case they, as the load-bearing walls (you know? the ones that seem to hold up the entire building?) in my life and in the lives of others, might be weary and aching.