I want to believe that I am self-sufficient. That within my ingenious female ecosystem lies impenetrable savvy.
The kind of savvy that will propel me into a position of leadership. A position worthy of a proper title.
After all, I am a strong candidate. A formidable opponent. A listener. A learner. A friend. A skilled and self-sacrificing business woman.
All in the name of the greater good.
I’m not self-sufficient. In fact, I’m incredibly dependent. Even in my singularity, I am utterly vulnerable, and squeamishly reliant.
I labored with my first-born for 72 hours. No drugs. No cesarean. No doctors. My body produced the fruit. My husband never left my side. Not in presence, nor in spirit. I wanted to quit. He believed in me. I believed in him.
My mother and father left everything they knew to raise me here. They were afraid. They were alone. But then again, they had me. They had my sister. We loved them unconditionally. They were not alone. They had each other. We believed in them. They believed in us.
How truly this translates into every vision, every goal.
It is hard to admit. The intimacy of it. That I need you.
I need you.
I need you to believe in me.
I need you to speak up on my behalf.
I need you to endorse me.
I need you to volunteer my name.
I need you to neutralize the naysayers.
I need to you to open your heart.
I need you to believe when I can’t believe.
When believing hurts.
Because at some point, something beautiful occurs.
The kind that makes you forget it was hard.
The kind that elates.
The kind that grew from you trusting me.
And me trusting you.
You need me, too.
I believe in you.
I challenge you to seek truth by asking yourself the following questions:
- Have I witnessed a situation where I could have supported someone and didn’t?
- How could I be impeding someone’s progress?
- How could I be impeding my own progress?
- By doing or not doing these things, what were the subsequent outcomes?
- Am I happy with these outcomes?
- What do I believe is true?
Personally, I struggle to ask for support, particularly when in pain. I’m constantly swept away by the notion that leadership and loneliness must go hand-in-hand, and that leadership necessarily requires perfect confidence. It’s paralyzing and false.
Leadership, in its nature, arises only from these three things: knowledge, compassion, and a sense of “belongingness” to one another. Yes, leadership is hard, but it shouldn’t be lonely. I’m with you.
By speaking my truth, I hope you will find the courage to seek yours.