If friendships had seasons.

If friendships had seasons, then I’ve just come through the longest winter yet.

Only recently did spring start to bloom; when I cried tears of relief that watered the dry grounds of my spirit.

In May, my life shifted abruptly. I experienced a traumatic event and though one of my best friends was right beside me, It felt like time froze. And even in that paralyzing moment, when all I wanted was to hold her and cry, my instinct to fix things kicked in. When I’m in crisis, I find it hard, so hard, to lean on people.

I had been robbed. Not just of gadgets and equipment, but of a hard drive that held years of work. And oddly enough, my favorite lip gloss. When I tried to talk about it, I’d rush through the words, because I was trying to avoid speaking about the impact. The equipment stolen was expensive but the repercussions of the loss were costly.

At a point, I remember telling my friend it felt like mobility had been cut off from me.

And for someone who is always moving, keeping still felt like regression.But I’m learning that keeping still, is progress still.

I once read: “When you hit a wall, sometimes it’s just there for you to lean on.”

That wall found me in October 2023. Long before the robbery, I was already struggling to exist, to feel like myself, to be the kind of friend I believed people deserved. I was called out for it and I remember feeling so hurt because grace wasn’t offered.

The robbery in May was the final straw. I wanted help, but asking for it felt like begging.

I didn’t want to compete in the silent Olympics of “Who will show up for me the most?”

All I truly needed was hand-holding.

Funny enough, financial support was never an expectation, especially with the economy being what it is. Oh but it came. And with it came as love in all forms: physical, emotional and spiritual.

God was showing me:

You are not alone. You never were.

I had built a bubble of loneliness,but community popped it right open.And after the show of love, guilt came lurking.

I felt indebted.

Like I owed everyone something for loving me.I wanted to gift every friend who stood by me though I knew I couldn’t.

And it exposed something flawed in me; my 50/50 idea of friendship.

You do for me, I do for you.

But when I couldn’t “do”, I spiraled.

Love started to feel like a debt.

Until God reminded me:

“Even at your lowest, your friends still choose you .There were times you gave a 100% expecting nothing in return.  I will bless them, in ways you cannot.”

So now, I’m in the spring season of frienship.

Learning to receive without shame.

Learning to lean without guilt.

Learning that help doesn't have to be earned.

I’ve left the cold behind, and I’m letting the sun shine on my spirit again.

And every ray of kindness that found me,

I’m tucking away in my heart

pockets of joy and proof

for the days winter may return.

If you’ve been through a long winter too,

I hope this reminds you:

Stillness is not regression.

Help is not a burden.

Love is not transactional.

And spring will come.