$pent Millennial

Dear Reader,

Who do you call?

When it feels like you are first in everyone’s phone—who’s first in yours?

This past week, in the middle of a work event, my phone rang. A family member. I couldn’t pick up. That familiar pang of anxiety and guilt hit fast. I shot a quick text to my partner:
“Can you call and check in?”

By the time I circled back, it was already handled. He was on it. No missed beat. No big announcement. Just… taken care of.

And I found myself so deeply grateful—for the “first call of the first call.”
The one who steps in when the one everyone else relies on can’t.

It made me think:
We’ve got recognition for eldest daughters holding it down as the “CEOs” of their families—organizing, remembering, managing, caring. But where’s the appreciation week, the bouquet of thanks, the public shoutout for the partners of eldest daughters? The ones who serve as the COOs—the quiet, competent second-in-command who knows when to take the wheel without being asked.

Later in the week, someone in my circle hit a wall of car trouble—one of those logistical nightmares that turns your whole day (or week) sideways.

Living in a city where public transportation isn’t a real option. They had to figure it out. Others in the circle were quick to graciously offer of help with rides and support, but that (while appreciated) didn’t change the fact that everything still had to get done. And it was overwhelming. 

The logistics, the coordination, the having-to-ask when you’re usually the one being asked.

There’s a specific kind of discomfort that comes with suddenly needing support when you’re used to being the one who holds everyone else up. 

I could relate.

A colleague of mine said recently, “I just need a deeper bench.”
And I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

Not more people to hang out with or share memes with—but people who can show up with soup, or jumper cables, or just the capacity to take one thing off your plate without asking for anything in return.

And I thought: yes. Yes, I want that for you. I want that for everyone.

Then I had another thought, if I’m honest—a little less generous, but probably just as true:
“But everyone on the bench is drowning.”

Who has the capacity to be someone else’s first call, when they’re already holding up a dozen spinning plates of their own?

And still—despite it all— we manage. We figure out ways to hold each other up while we’re treading water.

Yet, I keep hoping. Hoping that we’ll find another way. That we will find a solution that doesn’t rely on continuing to exhaust and overwhelm. I hope for systems that support, structures that sustain, circles that hold.

Until then, we have to work with what we got. And we need to protect who we have in our circles and on our benches – the best that we can.

So if you’ve made it this far (and I know your to-do list is full), maybe take a second to check in with the person who’s first in your phone. Make sure they have a “first call” of their own. Someone they can tap when they need to tap out. Someone who doesn’t need the full download to know what to do.

Because even the strongest among us shouldn’t have to carry it all alone.
Especially not the ones who make it look like they can.

As always, thank you for having coffee with me. 

Until next week – take care and be well, 

Everett 

P.S Sometimes it is okay for a ball or two to fall. 🙂