Edited by: Bhavika Rawat
I have never understood the movie scenes where there’s chaos overtaking an entire city– with buildings burning and people running everywhere– and the main character is on a phone call and he goes “yeah , i’m gonna have to call you back”. NO, STAY ON THE PHONE WITH ME. I NEED YOU NOW MORE THAN EVER..
Because, in reality, when disaster strikes, when things go up in flames—literally or figuratively—you don’t cut the call. You hold on tighter. You reach for the people who ground you. You trust that in the midst of fear, there is safety in holding on. Because the truth is, we need our people. And not just when there’s a Godzilla in town.
Yet, we’ve been conditioned to believe that strength is handling our battles in isolation, calmly saying I got this when we very clearly do not. We live in a culture that glorifies independence—self-made success stories, lone wolves, the idea that vulnerability is weakness. So, we resist leaning on people when we need them most. We convince ourselves that our problems are burdens, that others have their own chaos to deal with, that we should just figure it out. Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s the voice in our head whispering, Don’t be a bother. Whatever it is, it keeps us from picking up the phone and saying, I need you.
But the reality is that no one truly makes it alone. Humans are wired for connection. From the moment we’re born, we depend on others to survive, to learn, to grow. The notion that we should somehow unlearn this dependency as we get older is, frankly, absurd. Independence, at its best, doesn’t mean isolation. Being able to lean on someone isn’t a sign o trusting.
In an era where social media makes it seem like everyone has their lives together, admitting that you don’t can feel truly terrifying. But letting people in—truly in—is one of the most radical acts of strength. Trusting someone enough to be honest about your struggles, to cry in front of them, to let them see you at your messiest, is not weakness. It is bravery.f weakness; it’s a sign that you have built the kind of relationships worth
We’ve all been the person who has needed that late-night phone call, that Are you free to talk? text, that I don’t even need advice, I just need you to listen for a moment. And we’ve all been the person on the other end, who drops everything to say, I’m here. That’s what connection is. That’s what makes everything more bearable.
And sometimes, it’s not just about emotional crises. It’s about the little moments too—needing a friend to check your outfit before an important event, to remind you to eat when you’re too overwhelmed to think about food, to help you make your CV. We rely on others in ways big and small, and recognizing that isn’t just important—it’s necessary.
If life were a disaster movie (and let’s be honest, some days it feels like one), who would you call in the middle of the storm? Who would fight their way through the wreckage just to make sure you’re okay? And whose name would you whisper first if everything around you came crashing down? The people we surround ourselves with, the ones we turn to when things fall apart, are the ones who matter most. The best moments in life are better when shared. Achievements feel bigger when you have people to celebrate with. Joy multiplies when it’s witnessed. A simple I’m proud of you from the right person can mean the world.
So maybe it’s time to rewrite the script. Maybe, instead of saying, I’ll call you back, we say, Could you stay on the line, please? Maybe we stop pretending we can do it all alone and start admitting that we were never meant to. Maybe we trust that the people who love us want to show up for us.
Because in the middle of the chaos, when the buildings are burning and the monsters are roaring, you don’t cut the call. You hold the phone closer. You keep talking. You stay connected.
Because, honestly? I need you now more than ever.