“Have your people call my people”

I feel like I used to hear that all the time in commercials and movies. And I thought to myself: I want to be able to say that. I want to be such a celebrity or big wig that I have “people.” And I interact with other big wig-ish people that they have “people.” And then my people will call their people to set up lunch because … I don’t make my own appointments.

In my imagining of “my people,” I was thinking of a personal assistant who keeps my calendar. Or maybe at work, a professional administrative assistant who makes my appointments. I just thought, I want to have “my people.”

In the last months I’ve been adulting (as many of us do around a new year) – making doctor’s appointments, getting my taxes together etc., 

And it turns out, it takes a lot of people for me to be well. I have a primary care doctor, a gynecologist, a hematologist, an optometrist, a dentist, a therapist, and sometimes a psychiatrist and naturopath. I have a financial planner and a tax accountant. On good days, I have an aesthetician and hair stylist. When needed, I work with a web designer, graphic designer, contractor, landscape maintenance, interior decorator, realtor, babysitter . . . you get the idea. Most of these people bring an expertise that I need in my life. They do things I cannot do, or cannot do well. It takes a lot of people to keep this ship afloat. I do have people. 

And there are the people who answer my calls and texts about the things that turn me inside out. The people who want to see pictures of my kid at her concert. The people who will share their experiences when I have questions. The people who agree that “that is so hard” when I complain about things. 

This reminds me that I have a lot of help. 

Every so often I feel very alone. It’s the lie that depression and weariness tell me. And I strive to remember that I’m not alone. That there are people who help me, and people who care about me. So I fight that fiction with facts. And I go to all the appointments (ugh) because I’m trying to live a long healthy life.

I haven’t made it to big-wig-status like I once hoped for. If you call my cell phone, I answer it. But I do have a team of people who help me to be … me.

And while some of this comes from privilege (although the medical stuff should be an equal access in this country) and some of this comes from home ownership, I think we all need people. The official people who help us with living life and the loving people who … help us with living life.

Maybe you’re like me and you forget that, and just need to make a list to remind yourself. If so, I encourage you to do that today. Who helps you with living your life?

Monica