Always Available

Julie was always there for her friends. It came naturally — as the older sister in a working household, she'd learned early to be her younger siblings' support, and now she was her friends' too.

So it was normal that she would talk to Nora almost every day, ever since her marriage hit rock bottom, for at least half an hour each time.

"She needs me," Julie would tell herself when Nora's name lit up the screen. And so it went, for about a year.

We like to be there for our friends. Friendship matters — it's part of what lets us thrive. But it also has to be handled with care.

"No one wants to listen to me anymore," Nora said one evening. "You're my best friend." The sentence struck a chord in Julie. She remembered the story of the butterfly — the child who watches one struggling against its cocoon and, wanting to help, gently widens the opening. The butterfly gets out easily. But its wings never gain the strength to fly. The struggle itself was what would have built that strength.

Julie realised her constant availability might be preventing Nora from ever having to make the decisions she needed to make. And she was part of the cycle too now, putting her own life on hold with every call.

Constant availability can quietly do two things at once. It can remove someone else's pressure to actually decide something. And it can let you avoid sitting with the parts of your own life you'd rather not face — because there's always somewhere more urgent to be needed.

A gentler edge sounds like: "I do want to be here for you — I have fifteen minutes right now. Tell me the basics, and we'll pick it up tomorrow." Or, even more honestly: "I've noticed we talk about this every other day, and we seem to be going in circles. Maybe a specialist would help more than I can?"

Notice where you are when you're holding space for others — they have their own responsibilities too. Their feelings are real. And they are not, automatically, yours to carry to completion.

They're just worth naming, especially if you're someone whose work is holding space for other people — a parent, a friend, a coach, a mentor, a supervisor.