Two-Way Streets: Let Yourself Be Loved

I write a lot about showing up for people. About making the drive, sending the text, remembering the little things, checking in just because, and being present even when it isn't necessarily convenient. I think it's one of the simplest and most meaningful ways we can love people. Not just telling someone they matter, but making sure they know it through the way we spend our time.

It's a theme in just about everything I write. It's a main theme in my life. And I believe every bit of it.

But recently, I've been thinking about the other side of showing up. The part that doesn't come quite as naturally to me. Letting people show up for me, too.

The Honor of Being Asked

When someone calls and asks me to make the drive, sit with them, lend a hand, or simply be there, I rarely think about the inconvenience. Sure, sometimes it means rearranging plans, losing a little sleep, or stepping outside my comfort zone. But I tend to see it as a great honor to be asked.

Someone thought of me. Someone trusted me enough to let me into a part of their life where they needed something. They gave me an opportunity to love them in a way that mattered in that moment. What a privilege that is.

I would never want the people I love to feel like a burden for needing me. I want them to know they can call. They don't need a good reason or a perfectly worded explanation. Sometimes showing up is just sitting in the discomfort (or even in celebration) with someone until it passes.

And yet, I am realizing I haven't always extended that same courtesy to the people around me.

Letting Yourself Be Loved

I think sometimes we get so comfortable being the person who shows up that we forget we're allowed to need people, too.

I've come to realize there's no such thing as a one-way street in a relationship.

We can't spend all our time showing up for others and never let them do the same for us. That's not how relationships work, and it's certainly not how we're meant to love one another.

We don't want to inconvenience anyone. We convince ourselves that whatever we're dealing with isn't worth bothering someone over. We would rather figure it out ourselves than admit we could use a hand. Sometimes we say we're fine because explaining that we're not feels harder than just carrying on.

There is a difference between being independent and being unwilling to be helped. Between being strong and never allowing yourself to be vulnerable.

And perhaps when I insist on carrying everything myself, I am withholding something from the people who love me. I am taking away their opportunity to show up, the same opportunity I consider such an honor when it is given to me.

If I believe being asked to show up for someone is a privilege, I have to believe that allowing someone to show up for me is a way of honoring them, too.

You Have to Let People Know You

I think there is something else worth considering here. We cannot expect people to really know us if we only ever let them see the parts of us that have it all together.

Being known requires vulnerability.

It means letting someone see the unfinished parts, the uncertain parts, and the days when we don't have the right words or the energy to pretend everything is fine. It means trusting someone enough to let them sit with us in those moments.

I don't think we have to become less capable or less independent. I just think we have to leave the door open. Answer the phone. Accept the offer. Be willing to say, "Actually, I could use you right now."

I've spent a lot of time writing about the importance of showing up for people. I don't intend to stop. But I think I have a little more to learn about the other side of that sentiment.

I want to be someone people can count on, but I also want to be someone who lets others count themselves in.

I want to keep making the drive, sending the text, and showing up just because. But I also want to get a little better at asking someone to do those things for me.

After all, if I believe it is an honor to be asked, I should be willing to extend that same honor to the people I love.

Letting others love you is an act of love, too.

aml,

Neva