Trading in my Shovel for a Ladder
October 19, 2022
I am an empath. I will never let a friend be upset alone, I will never let someone cry without a shoulder to lean on, and, a fan favorite: if you are going through a breakup, WE are going through the heartbreak. I consider it to be one of my best qualities, I will always be there for you as if your issues are my own. I pride myself on the fact that I am approachable: I make myself available to hear all of your rants and ensure that I am there for a simple “hello”. Even with a fear of heights, I have a permanent seat as a passenger on your emotional rollercoaster.
But, to be honest, I’m an empath to a fault. I used to laugh it off, the fact that I would voluntarily catch this disease whose symptoms include going through your toughest experiences with you. However, don’t be fooled, your happiness is also my happiness. Yet, as much as smiles are contagious, the hard-to-face fact comes to light: tears are too.
I enjoy being everyone’s “person”: their go-to, stand-in therapist. The nerves, the excitement, the fear, the sadness, the happy moments: I want to live it all with you, never declining the chance to have a deep and meaningful conversation. But I came to realize that I was having more trouble finding my way back on my feet when a friend was going through tough times, rather than the one first-handedly experiencing the emotions.
This summer, I got to work with twenty-four amazing twelve-year-old girls as a camp counselor. We all remember being twelve once, when our emotions were everywhere (although, when are they not?). But, in typical fashion, I had promised them all that I’d be with them every step of the way, navigating their last summer before they became teenagers.
In the midst of adapting twenty-four twelve-year-old girls’ emotions, I heard the best advice that I have ever received. Sitting down with the camp director, a role model of mine, I was told that it was simple: stop jumping into the hole that others are in to help, but stand at the top with a ladder or rope- be there for them while maintaining your own stability. I can easily say that this moment changed my life. I shifted my mindset to understand that the most successful way to help others is to feel from above- it doesn’t help anyone if there are two people in a hole with no way out.
I often find myself catching a breath after sharing this, and without fail, I relive the “wow factor” that this brings, each and every time. It’s only been four months since I heard this for the first time, and I will continue to share and learn from the message it delivers. Now that it’s available to you, don’t postpone adopting this mindset. The next time you find yourself on the way down a hole that you did not dig, trade your shovel in for a ladder, and trust me- you’ll both be happier. Besides, life’s a lot more fun above ground.