The word for five minute friday is:
Solidarity is a powerful thing.
When we unite under the things we share– our likes, our faith, our struggles– we suddenly feel less alone.
I cannot tell you the relief it is hearing someone say, “me, too.”
Whether it’s about a shared show or a favorite book or family drama or a struggle with mental health like mine, “me, too” gives me room to exhale.
Hallelujah, I’m not alone.
I’m not weird, or different, or other.
I am not the only one that feels this or understands this.
That’s a beautiful thing to me.
I struggle so much with vulnerability in certain areas of my life– yet whenever I share, I learn that someone else deals with that, too.
I was chatting with a friend of mine a few days ago, a fellow English major, and we talked about how much we loved spending time with other English majors– they just “get us.” They understand.
For Cozumel this year, we did a prayer calendar thing where we all shared our stories (how much or little we wanted) with the group, and every day we’d pray for the person whose story was shared that day. I was towards the end of the calendar, so I got to see/hear so many of my teammates and friends tell their stories– and see that they, too, deal with similar things I do.
I was willing to be more vulnerable with them than I’ve been with anyone else, because I saw that they struggled the same ways that I did– so they would understand.
We unite in our similarity. In our “me too.” In our likeness, our understanding.
We unite when we discover that our lives belong to each other.
And we unite when we say me too.