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The right people
To depend on
Just like you
-安天美
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Trust begins small. A seed planted between strangers who sense something familiar in each other's laughter. We test the ground with casual confidences, watching how they handle these minor treasures before entrusting them with anything fragile. The right people treat your ordinary moments with extraordinary care, not because they're trying to prove themselves but because that's simply who they are.
The right people arrive in our lives through a cosmic orchestration beyond our understanding. They appear when the soil of our hearts has been tilled by experience, when we have learned enough about ourselves to recognise what we need in others. These connections cannot be forced or manufactured; they emerge naturally when souls stand ready to receive each other.
The phrase "the right people" carries subtle wisdom. Not just any people will do. Not those who drain our energy, who demand we shrink ourselves, who require constant proof of worthiness. The right people recognise your light even when clouds of doubt obscure it from your own view. They hold space for your contradictions, your questions, your evolving self. They see not just who you are today but who you are becoming.
We learn dependence before we learn anything else. As infants, our survival relies entirely on others responding to our needs. Somewhere along the journey to adulthood, many of us internalise the message that maturity means outgrowing this fundamental human need for support. We build elaborate fortresses around our vulnerability, not realising how these walls that keep hurt out also keep connection at a distance.
The paradox waits patiently for our discovery as dependence transforms into something beautiful when practiced with discernment. Consider how water depends on riverbanks to guide its journey while simultaneously shaping those very banks through its persistent flow. In healthy relationships, this same mutual influence occurs. We provide structure and support for each other while being transformed by the exchange. The most nurturing connections never calcify into rigid roles of giver and receiver but remain fluid, adapting to changing needs and circumstances.
To depend on someone represents an act of radical trust. Language often fails us here. The word "dependence" carries connotations of weakness, burden, inequality. Perhaps we need new vocabulary for this ancient human practice of leaning on each other. Or perhaps we need to reclaim the word itself, washing away centuries of individualistic thinking to reveal the original beauty underneath. Depending on others doesn't diminish your strength; it multiplies it through connection.
When you allow yourself to need someone, you offer them not burden but gift: the opportunity to express care, to matter, to participate in the sacred work of sustaining another human being. This vulnerability creates pathways for deeper connection that cannot be achieved through self-protection. We develop emotional resilience by moving through them with people who honour our trust.
"Just like you" completes the circle reminding us that support flows both ways. If you already know how to give, you've developed this muscle through years of extending yourself toward others' needs. The greater challenge might be learning to receive with the same grace that you offer.
Consider for a moment what your resistance to receiving denies others. When you consistently position yourself as the giver, never the receiver, you create an imbalance in your relationships. You deny others the joy of contributing to your well-being, the satisfaction of being needed by someone they care about. Just as water must both flow in and flow out to remain fresh, relationships require reciprocity to thrive.
Sometimes you are the solid ground; sometimes you are the one who needs a place to stand. Your willingness to occupy both positions with equal comfort creates relationships where neither person must become smaller to accommodate the other. Together, you expand into something greater than either could be alone.
You become a sanctuary for others through experiencing your own need for refuge. Having known the relief of being truly seen during your struggles, you gain the capacity to offer that same recognition to others. Your wounds, once sources of shame, transform into wells of compassion from which others can drink.
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<aside> <img src="/icons/backward_blue.svg" alt="/icons/backward_blue.svg" width="40px" /> Embodied Existence
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<aside> <img src="/icons/forward_blue.svg" alt="/icons/forward_blue.svg" width="40px" /> See you tomorrow?
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