I don’t want a cheerleader.
I don’t want someone just clapping from the sidelines, even if they’re cheering me on with the purest heart.
I want a partner—someone on the field with me, sweat on their brow, sleeves rolled up, hands dirty from building something together.
Because here’s the truth:
Support, while beautiful and often well-meaning, can slowly turn into something isolating. When you’re the one always leading, always pushing, always solving—you begin to carry everything. Every choice, every risk, every consequence. And while someone may be lovingly watching from the wings, it doesn’t stop the weight from piling up.
Supporters say, “You’ve got this.”
But when you’re tired, you think, “Do I?”
Because no one’s there lifting with you. No one’s helping navigate the storm—they’re just holding an umbrella on the sidelines.
And that’s when the loneliness sets in.
Not because you aren’t loved, but because you aren’t joined.
You’re admired, but not mirrored.
Appreciated, but not understood in the trenches of your day-to-day.
Responsibility, when it’s not shared, starts to erode your spirit.
Even the strongest people crack under the quiet burden of being the one who always “has it together.”
And the irony? It often happens with the most well-meaning supporters—the ones who say, “I’m just trying to help,” while unintentionally leaving you to do the hard emotional and logistical labor of everything.
A partner doesn’t let you carry it all, even if you can.
They don’t just say, “Let me know if you need anything.”
They look, they listen, and they step in without being asked—because your life is theirs, too. Your stress is shared. Your joy is co-owned. Your future is something you both take responsibility for, equally and intentionally.
Support can still keep you alone in a room full of love.
Partnership brings you in—into the effort, into the decision-making, into the mess of what life really is.
So, no—I don’t want a supporter.
I want someone who will take ownership with me.
Who doesn’t just watch me build—but picks up a hammer, lays bricks, asks hard questions, makes bold moves, and knows that our bond is forged in mutual effort, not passive admiration.
I want someone beside me, not behind me.
Someone who doesn’t wait to be needed, but is already there.
Because together means I don’t have to be everything, all the time.
It means I can exhale.
It means I can be—fully, freely, and without carrying the whole world on my back.
That’s partnership.
And that’s what I want.
