First I’ll tell you about some things that have happened in the last several weeks, all disparate yet connected:
During a recent depressive episode, my friend Jezz sent my a voice note that completely changed the way I think about/approach my depression.
My friend Akwaeke generously sent me contact info for a potential new therapist.
My friend Molly came to my home and watched over me all night as I underwent ketamine therapy for my depression + anxiety (more on this in a future newsletter chile…👀).
My friend Fariha offered to let me stay in her home during a recent trip to LA, right at the moment when I was secretly stressing about how I was going to afford the trip, afford a place to stay.
I tweeted “I wish I knew how to ask for help,” and someone I don’t know personally but admire deeply emailed me to offer support, to ask me, “How can I help?” And did.
I’m making a record of all these little moments because this Sunday, what I’m meditating on is how good it feels to be helped and how often we (and here I’m referring to Black femmes in particular) don’t allow ourselves to feel that goodness.
I think for me, part of the reason I’m very reluctant to gestures of support, no matter how big or small, is because the main thing I need support for is dealing with my exhaustingly volatile mental health. I think that’s why I’ve always leaned towards being a loner, why the friends I do have won’t hear from me or see me for months on end — I’m usually not “okay” and to ask for help in relation to that feels like too much. But what good is friendship or community if we are not willing to be witnessed in our too muchness?
Earlier today I listened to “Ciara’s Prayer” from the Summer Walker’s album Still Over It, and the concept really struck me. Of course people had been hounding Ciara for years to disclose the prayer that secured her a seemingly happy, healthy relationship and family with Russell Wilson after the drama of her past relationships. But I wonder why some of us put so much emphasis into praying for romantic partners rather than into praying for true friendship and community?
I’m pretty confident that my partner, who I have been with for nearly 8 years, is “the one,” but what has become abundantly clear is that he is not and cannot be the only one. Friends can be soulmates, too. As can acquaintances, honestly. As can strangers. We are all each other, after all. And we need each other just as we need ourselves.
Last month, I had the pleasure to attend and the honor to give a speech at the wedding of my friends Ashley and Rob. A week prior to the wedding, they had learned that Rob’s cancer was going to progress, and decided to get married as soon as possible. In a week, under the shittiest of circumstances, they were able to throw one of if not the best wedding I’ve ever been to. A wedding filled with so much love, not just from the couple at the center of it but an entire community who came together to make it happening.
Witnessing that love in action really made me begin to think even more deeply about my quest for friendship and community, what it is I desire and require from the people in my life and what I desire to give to them. Who do I turn to, other than my partner, when I am in crisis? When I need help in any and every sense?
I’m becoming clearer about what I don’t want (friends who are secretly competing with me, friends who only want me when I’m on, friends who get mean when they feel insecure, friends who don’t respect boundaries) and what I do want (friends who want to strategize on how to maintain our mental health, friends who want to create, friends who don’t hoard resources, friends challenge me to be a better friend, friends but who accept that this journey is a long and complicated one).
The world is burning and I think we all need to be considering more seriously and more specifically how we can support others and how we want to be supported. I know everyone says this, I know I’ve said it in past newsletters but it will always bear repeating. I need to be reminded constantly: we really can’t do this on our own. And we don’t have to.
As always, I hope this is what your Sunday is giving: