Why We Don’t Have to Move Through Change Alone
There is a particular kind of independence many of us learn to admire and, in some cases, embrace. Sometimes it exists within us, but sometimes we notice and admire it from afar. We may see it in someone else and strive to acquire the asset for ourselves. Yet, no matter where it lives, we keep handling things. We figure things out. We keep moving through life. We try not to burden anyone else with what belongs to us. We imagine that everyone else is handling things the same. Or better.
And when life gets difficult, we sometimes become even more determined to manage it ourselves. We assert our "independence" and wear it like a shield against all the hard times we've survived, preparing for what's next. We hunker down, grit our teeth, grin and bear it, trying to make it through.
There is strength in being independent. In being able to carry your own life. But I’ve been thinking about what happens when being independent and capable becomes so familiar that we stop noticing how much we're carrying alone. Unnecessarily, alone.
Sometimes there are moments when the next step forward isn’t something more that we need to add to our already heavy load. Sometimes the right next step isn't arming ourselves with independence. It's letting someone else in.
Just Because the Inner Work Belongs to You. Doesn’t Mean You Have to Carry It Alone.
It's true that no one else can make our decisions. No one else can set our boundaries, confront what we have been avoiding, change patterns that no longer serve us, or decide who we're choosing to become. Those decisions and choices belong to us.
But personal responsibility and personal isolation are not the same thing.
We are relational beings. Connection is wired into our DNA. We cannot survive healthily without it. The people around us greatly influence how safe or unsafe we feel. Those relationships influence whether we feel understood and supported. Sometimes we gather that information through a long conversation with the people around us. Sometimes we learn the most about ourselves when someone listens without trying to fix anything. Sometimes it's in the laughter we share at exactly the moment we thought we had forgotten how to laugh.
And sometimes it's simply hearing someone say, “Me too!” As you share a connection over an absurd but hysterical experience.
The circumstances may not change the issue you're dealing with. The problem may still be waiting. But something can shift when we realize we are not the only person who's been afraid, overwhelmed, uncertain, exhausted, grieving, starting again, or trying to figure out what comes next. That simple, shared lived experience has tremendous power and healing.
Connection doesn’t always remove the difficulty.
But sometimes it changes how alone we feel inside of it. And that matters.
Why Distance Sometimes Feels Safer, and What Makes Us Sometimes Pull Away
Of course, knowing that connection can help doesn’t mean connection always feels easy, or even immediately safe.
We pull away for many reasons. We may not want to worry anyone. We may have learned that needing help is weakness. We may not be ready to reveal or share something we've been holding that we don't even understand. We may fear being misunderstood. And for those of us accustomed to being the person other people rely on, letting someone see our uncertainty and vulnerability can feel surprisingly uncomfortable.
And not because we're carrying an ego we fear may be deflated by knowledge. But because when you're accustomed to wearing the "Do All and Be All" label. Not being able to do it all when it comes to dealing with your own stuff can be frightening.
Sometimes there is another reason. It may be that experience has taught us to be careful.
If vulnerability has previously been met with judgment, blame, shame, disappointment, dismissal, unwanted advice, or information we shared in confidence becoming someone else’s conversation or entertainment. Keeping things to ourselves may feel safer. Past evidence may have proven that to be true.
Connection doesn't mean giving everyone access to us. There is wisdom in discernment. It also doesn’t require sharing deeply with people who haven't shown they can hold what we share with care. And it certainly doesn’t require maintaining relationships that consistently diminish, disregard, harm, or exhaust us.
So the question you would ask yourself isn't, “Why can’t I just open up?”
Maybe the more meaningful question is: “What kind of connection feels safe for where I am right now?”
That information matters because there may be certain situations, people, and moments when you have the capacity to form deeper connections than others. And that's perfectly acceptable. Understanding when and why that is could be helpful.
Connection Can Be a Meaningful Micro Step
At The Essence of Afterglow, we talk a great deal about Meaningful Micro Steps—small, intentional, repeatable actions chosen based on where we actually are and the capacity we have in that moment.
The signature question we always return to is:
In this moment. Based on where I am now. What meaningful Micro Step am I able to take?
We often imagine the answer as something we do individually. Rest for ten minutes. Write one honest sentence. Say no to something that exceeds our capacity. Take the walk that we found fifty reasons not to take. Make the appointment we put off for the third time. Begin the thing we have been avoiding for five minutes. A small, simple, but meaningful step helps us move forward.
But what if the meaningful micro step is relational?
Maybe the Micro Step is texting the person you’ve been thinking about instead of telling yourself you’ll do it later. Maybe it's accepting an invitation you almost declined. Asking for help with one specific thing when you would otherwise force your way through the task alone. Maybe it's joining the conversation instead of only observing it. Or telling one trusted person what's actually going on with you instead of hiding it.
Or perhaps it's as simple as saying:
“I don’t need you to fix this. I just need someone to hear me.”
That counts.
The step doesn't have to be dramatic to be meaningful. It simply needs to matter to you, fit the circumstances you are actually experiencing, and be possible within the capacity you have in that moment. And then repeat it.
Sometimes the next Meaningful Micro Step isn’t something you do alone.
It may be someone you decide to let in.
If Connection Is What You Crave, Sometimes We Need to Create the Room to Connect
Lately I’ve also been thinking about the spaces where the best connections I've had happen.
I've realized that I have people in my life who are wonderful companions for laughter and fun. But when I need to think about something serious, they're more distraction than they are help. Some people are my trusted thought partners. But when I'm experiencing loss, they take the conversation too deep. Some can sit comfortably beside grief without trying to make it disappear. But at a public gathering, they're flat and boring. Some gently push back and challenge me, and when I need a break. Hostility lingers in the room. Some know me so deeply that they can remind me who I am. And occasionally there's someone with whom we can be several versions of ourselves at once.
But sometimes the room we need in that moment doesn’t exist yet. Especially when we're unsure what we need.
Sometimes conversations go beyond updates, accomplishments, and the automatic answer of “I’m fine.” And we can usually tell when that's not quite enough. They may leave us craving more, but we can't tell what that "more" is. Maybe we want to be around people who can talk about uncertainty without immediately turning it into failure. Maybe we need spaces where strength and tenderness can coexist, where laughter can live beside grief, and where someone can say, “I’m still figuring this out,” without embarrassment or feeling the need to shrink.
Those spaces don’t always appear on their own. Sometimes someone has to create the room. Or set the stage for it.
To set the stage properly, someone has to risk asking the first honest question that we might normally dodge. Someone has to be willing to pull up another chair. Someone has to risk saying something real enough for another person to recognize herself in it. And that someone doesn't always have to be you.
Maybe community sometimes begins that simply. With the opportunities for the:
“You too?”
“Me too.”
To coexist.
Some parts of becoming will always belong to us alone. There are choices only we can make, truths only we can acknowledge, boundaries only we can establish, and steps only we can take.
But independence does not require isolation. Strength does not require silence. And becoming does not require disappearing into ourselves until we have everything figured out.
Perhaps your Meaningful Micro Step today has nothing to do with accomplishing something.
Perhaps it is one conversation. One message. One honest answer to “How are you?” One invitation accepted. One person allowed a little closer.
Because we can do our own inner work without believing we have to move through everything alone.
A Different Way to Begin
If you’re navigating change, overwhelm, uncertainty, or simply sensing that something in your life is ready to shift, you don’t have to know exactly where the path leads before you begin.
The Free 3-Day Afterglow Starter Practice gives you space to notice where you are, choose one meaningful focus, and identify a Micro Step that fits the capacity you have now.
Three days. One meaningful focus. One Micro Step at a time.
Comments