We need safe people. Of this I am convinced. We need them like we need our lungs to fill with oxygen, like we need that same breath to escape our lips. Without them we would suffocate beneath the feelings of inadequacy and the fear of judgement and the comparisons and the competitions and the unspoken rivalries.
We need them to cheer fiercely when something happens that is exciting but also scary. We need them to sit beside us and reassure us and reaffirm us and not get upset when we're constantly saying we're sorry. We need them to tell us there's no need to keep apologizing.
We need them to laugh with us -- to laugh hard, but also to tell us that it's okay to cry. To tell us that crying is good. To tell us to listen to those tears when they run down all wild.
We need them to be honoured when we ask a really important and vulnerable favour. We need them to whisper how proud of us they are, and to promise honesty forever. We especially need their honesty because sometimes this world feels flaky and unsure.
We need them to be for us, and we need them to tell us that. And maybe tell us that again, because we may not believe them the first time. We need them to giggle at our awkward moments that make us want to simply fall over with embarrassment. We need them to tell us stories of their own awkward moments so we don't fall over alone.
We need them to listen to our secrets, to hear out our disappointments and our shame and our guilt. And we need them to listen to our dreams -- the seemingly small and the impossibly large. Sometimes we just need them to listen.
We need them to be brave, and to put their hand on our shoulder while they whisper we're brave, too.
We need them. Because we need safe people.
And then, we'll take everything they gave us -- everything we so desperately needed -- and we'll pour it and more all out right back on them. Because the truth of it is: they need safe people, too.
This is day twenty-six. You can find the rest of this series right here.
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