04 - What They Call You For
The Carrying · Episode 04
The Carrying · Episode 04
What They Call You For
On being needed, and what sits underneath it.
From Episode Four
Your phone goes off and you feel it before you see it.
And there’s that half a second where you look at the name on the screen and you’re already doing the math.
Already figuring out what it is going to be.
Already deciding which version of yourself has to show up for this one.
Transcript
Read the transcript
What they call you for.
This one's a letter.
I want to say it that way.
Because there are some things you can only say in a letter.
To whoever's holding everything.
Your phone goes off and you feel it before you see it.
And there's that half a second where you look at the name on the screen and you're already doing the math.
Already figuring out what is going to be.
Already deciding which version of yourself has to show up for this one.
Because when your name comes up on somebody's screen, it comes up for a reason.
Nobody calls to tell you something funny anymore.
Nobody calls because they were just thinking about you.
And if somebody did, if the phone went off right now, and it was just somebody checking in, your first thought would be that something happened.
I know you're good at this.
And that's not a compliment.
That's the trouble.
You are good at it.
You know what to say.
You know who to call.
You know how to make a bad thing smaller just by walking into the room where it's happening.
And somewhere along the way, that stopped being something you do.
It became the reason you're in the room.
I know you've had that thought.
You've had it late probably.
Some night when the house finally went quiet and there was nothing left to handle.
And the thought is, if I stopped, would anybody still be here?
And I know you didn't sit with it long.
It felt ungrateful.
You've got people that love you, and it seemed like an insult to them.
And there was something that you had to take care of in about four minutes.
But you had it, and you've had it more than once.
I know what you got to put on.
That being needed is the same thing as being loved.
That the way to be safe is to be the one that nobody can do without.
That person who needs something is a burden.
And that person who provides everything is a blessing.
And you'd rather be the second one.
You decided that early.
You probably were a kid when you decided it.
And nobody has ever asked you to stop.
Why would they?
It's working.
It works so well.
I know you say you're fine.
And I know you're not lying when you say it.
That's the part that people miss about you.
You're not being brave.
You're actually managing.
The managing is real.
You built a life that runs.
I just also know what happens around 9 at night.
When the days stop finally asking you for things.
And you're sitting there, and it's quiet, and there's nothing left that needs handling.
And you don't know what to do with yourself.
I know nobody's coming to notice this.
That's the hard part, and I'm not going to dress it up.
The whole design of this is that it's invisible.
You made it invisible.
You're the steady one.
That's the arrangement.
And everybody built on top of it.
And if it changed, it would cost people something.
So it probably won't change from the outside, which means the only person who can say this out loud is you.
And you've been too busy to.
And I'll tell you something before I finish, because it would be dishonest not to.
I'm writing this to you, and I don't believe it myself yet.
I can say it to you clean.
I've said it to people I love and watched it land on them.
And then somebody asks me how I'm doing.
And I hear myself say, I'm good before the sentence has even finished getting to me.
I don't know how long it takes to change.
I'm not on the other side of it.
I just know that hearing somebody say it out loud was where it started for me.
So let me be there for you.
You are not a resource.
You've been playing that role for a long time, and you're excellent at it.
And the world has been very happy to let it continue.
But you are a person.
You get to be tired.
You get to want something.
You get to have a night where you're not useful to anybody, and nothing about that makes you less than what you've been.
And if some part of you doesn't believe that yet, that's alright.
You don't have to believe it tonight.
You only had to hear somebody say it.
Get comfortable now.
Nobody needs anything from you for the next few minutes.
Close your eyes.
Breathe in.
Let it out.
Put your hand on your chest if you want to, or your stomach.
The rise and the fall.
That's been happening all day without you asking it to.
Something in you kept you going while you handled everything else.
Now find your shoulders.
Notice how high they've been sitting.
That's the fear.
That if you weren't useful.
The room would empty out.
You never said that out loud.
You'd never say that out loud.
You just heard somebody else say it.
Let them come down.
Just a little.
Just for now.
Open your eyes when you're ready.
You're allowed to be tired.
The piece continued
Two songs came out of this essay.
What They Call You For began with being the person everyone knows they can call. When the essay was finished, two questions kept going. They became songs.
The first question
Who Carries Me
Who carries the person everyone else calls?
The essay is about being the one who shows up, handles it, and keeps things moving. This song stays with what happens to that person when everybody else is leaning on them.
The second question
Call Me For Nothing
What would it feel like if somebody called and didn't need anything?
No favor. No emergency. Nothing broken and nothing to fix. Just somebody calling because they thought of you — and wanting you there without needing you to be useful first.
If something stayed with you
Who do you call?
Stay a little longer
The questions, and the part that’s yours.
What happens when being needed starts to feel like being loved?
Who calls you when they don’t need anything?
Letters