Dependence on other people, on substances or activities is generally thought of in less that glowing terms. From an early age, we are encouraged to make our own choices, to live our own lives, to be our own people [persons??]. In other words, to be independent.
To be autonomous and free.
Everyone has those days when they need someone else. It’s a cliché for reason; no man is an island.
Nobody wants to be thought of as that clingy, needy, dependent person but without going to extremes, it helps to have a support system to rely on. In some aspects of our lives I find that we all need someone to help us with something or the other. It’s only natural. Human beings are geared for connectivity, for interdependence and for relationships.
Sometimes it’s just knowing that there is someone there to listen while we have a moan, to smile when we make a bad joke or to make us soup when we feel a bit poorly… it’s what makes life bearable. The fundamental knowledge that we are all in this together.
There’s this quote I love about a friend being someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you on those occasions when life gets a bit much and you’ve forgotten the words. I have found this to be true on a number of occasions. Though I know I’m a terrible friend but I’ve been truly blessed. I have some awesome people in my life who won’t quite quit, who won’t take no for an answer and who put up with my regular withdrawals from congenial interactions to mope around my little flat, brooding and writing, plotting and planning and generally acting a little bit batty LOL.
They keep me on point, both in my day job and in my private life. Male and female, they are the people who make life tolerable even when it’s been a down day and I can’t tell if I’m going or coming. When the world around me seems to be going mad, they remind me of my sanity and give me hope for tomorrow.
Smiling at the minute as I remember the two guys who gave me a make-up tutorial way, way back when I was just learning to wear lipstick. From them I learnt…
That neon orange was definitely NOT my colour…,
That mascara was good in small amounts …
That plum or berry tones work best with my complexion.
I also remember my adorable gal pals who attempted to teach this dyed-in-the-wool tomboy how to catwalk. The results were hilarious and needless to say, did not work. But it was the thought that counted anyway… The pictures of me wobbling in six inch heels have all been destroyed… [At least I hope they have ;-)]. Sneakers were always more my speed anyway.
May you always have a friend you can call on… and remember, if you don’t, or if you simply need one more,
I’m Here Too.
Much love people, Much Love.