The Art of Showing Up

by Rachel Wilkerson Miller

  Be extremely thoughtful in how you communicate with them. Their phone, laptop, and DMs might be monitored, and/or they may be trackable via GPS at all times. Don’t text them about the situation without receiving some kind of signal that it’s safe to do so, and ask permission before you post photos/videos of them, tag them, and/or add a location to a social media post.

  Stay in regular contact with the friend; it might be wise to set up a recurring time to hang out (ideally someplace safe/private). Encourage them to remain involved in their favorite hobbies, activities, and social groups; those connections really matter.

  Do what you can to make it easier for them to stay in touch, and to get help. That might mean allowing them to set the specifics of when/where/how you meet up, letting them use your phone or laptop to do research or make calls, or offering to pay for dinner if they are concerned the abusive person is monitoring their bank account.

  Take threats, stalking, abuse, and violence seriously, particularly if the abusive person owns or has access to weapons, and especially if your friend is taking the situation seriously.

  Don’t:

  Blame or shame them. There’s a good chance their partner is regularly putting them down. Be the person who affirms them and reminds them of their worth.

  Give up on them. Abusers succeed, in part, by isolating people from their friends and family. So don’t give them a big “It’s me or your abusive partner” ultimatum.

  Tell them what to do. Your friend is already dealing with one person who shows “love” via control; they don’t need another. If you push your own beliefs or shame them for staying in contact with the abusive person, they may stop being honest with you. You can (and should!) communicate that you are scared for their safety, but ultimately, you have to trust them to make their own decisions.

  Accuse them of being “irrational” if they won’t leave the abuser. What seems illogical to you can actually be incredibly rational, the result of dozens of tiny invisible calculations based on your friend’s intimate knowledge of the abuser’s past behavior.

  Forget to think about your own safety. Don’t confront the abuser, assume the abuser doesn’t realize that you’re onto their behavior, or be careless about posting on social media and/or sharing your location.

  Addiction

  Do:

  Remember that addiction isn’t a choice or something people can “just stop” doing. Quitting is really, really hard, even when a person wants to.

  Offer to help them find treatment, if that’s something they want. You can also show up for them by sitting with them when they tell their loved ones, driving them to appointments, or taking care of their home/pets/kids while they get treatment.

  Encourage them. Getting help is scary, and recovery is work. Remind them that you’re proud of them and that you are rooting for them.

  Focus on safety—yours and theirs. Instead of waiting for a crisis moment to occur, make a plan with them (and other friends/loved ones) for what you’ll do if the person becomes abusive or violent, tries to drive while drunk or high, or appears to have overdosed.

  Set and enforce boundaries. You are allowed to refuse to be around them while they are using, not get in a car with them when they are high, or deny them access to your children, your other friends, your home, and your belongings.

  Don’t:

  Take their addiction personally.

  Believe you can manage or end their addiction on your own. If there were ever an instance to call upon professional help, this is it.

  Attempt to control them. They get to decide what (if any) treatment is right for them, and ultimately take responsibility for their own health and healing.

  Try to protect them from the negative consequences of their behavior and choices. You can’t, and you’ll lose yourself trying to.

  Overlook the value of support groups, online communities, or other resources for families and loved ones. You have to keep showing up for yourself when dealing with this, buddy.

  Incarceration of a friend or their loved one

  Do:

  Stay in touch with an incarcerated friend. If you can’t call regularly, send letters or cards, or emails, if they’re permissible.

  Entertain them. Being in prison is often incredibly boring, so get creative. Print and mail a bunch of funny memes or tweets, talk about what you’re reading or what’s in the news, or just keep them updated on all the “boring” drama in your everyday life.

  Research what you can mail, bring, and wear to the prison they are in; it would be a bummer for them to not receive your card because, for example, it had glitter on it.

  If your friend’s loved one is incarcerated: Treat it like the loss that it is. Offer to drop off meals, help out around the house, babysit their kids, and lend a sympathetic ear. And do your research; read up on the criminal justice system and what life in prison is like.

  Don’t:

  Feel obligated to tell everyone you meet why your loved one is in prison. It’s perfectly OK to keep that private.

  Tell yourself that you have to “be strong” or think that you don’t have the right to share your everyday struggles and disappointments with the person who is incarcerated.

  Do this alone. Join a support group or otherwise connect with people whose loved ones are incarcerated.

  If your friend’s loved one is incarcerated: Don’t be nosy or judgmental. Keep an open mind and heart, and let your friend direct the conversations about their loved one.

  Death of a pet

  Do:

  Take the loss seriously. The death of a pet is heartbreaking, and your friend is probably going to be sad for a while. If you catch them invalidating their own grief (e.g., “I know it’s silly to be so upset but . . .”), remind them that it’s not silly to be sad or to cry.

  Share your favorite memories of their pet with them.

  Participate in any sort of funeral ritual or memorial they organize. It’s a really simple way to honor their loss and validate their pain.

  Keep an eye on whether they are getting out of the house regularly and/or engaging with other people, particularly if they live alone and/or are a senior citizen.

  Don’t:

  Ask them if/when they are planning to get a new pet.

  Forget that pets are special and meaningful for a lot of people, even if you don’t feel that way about animals.

  Death of a loved one

  Do:

  Validate their loss. If they are clearly communicating that they are upset, or telling you that the deceased was deeply important to them, it doesn’t really matter if, say, the person was “technically” a close relative or not. On the other hand, if it’s not immediately obvious what the relationship was like, you might want to say something to the effect of “Were you two close?” before making any assumptions. That gives them the space to say, “Actually, my parent and I had a very complicated relationship and haven’t spoken in some time.”

  Invite them to tell you about the life of the person who died. You can say, “What was your grandma like?” or “If you’re comfortable sharing, I’d love to read the obituary/your eulogy later” or “I’d love to see photos of them.” And then listen when they tell you. (Note: Use your best judgment on when to do this; the days between the death and the funeral are typically a good time. That said, if you’re not sure what exactly to say to your coworker who just told you their dead grandfather was their best friend, try something like, “He sounds really special, and I’d love to hear more about him if you’d like to share more with me at some point.”)

  Send a card. This isn’t to say you should only send a card; sometimes, you should also send flowers, or food, or go to the funeral. But if you’re wondering if it’s OK to send a card, the answer is yes, it is. My dad died more than twenty years ago, and I can still tell you the names of the classmates who sent me a sympathy card after his death. I was genuinely touched by their gesture, and it taught me to do the same if given the opportunity.

&
nbsp; Familiarize yourself with the funeral rituals of other religions or cultures if you think/know the deceased’s traditions are different from yours.

  Always go to the funeral. This tip comes from Deirdre Sullivan in a lovely NPR piece of the same name. “Sounds simple—when someone dies, get in your car and go to calling hours or the funeral,” she writes. “‘Always go to the funeral’ means that I have to do the right thing when I really, really don’t feel like it.”42

  Don’t:

  Go to the funeral if you’re explicitly asked not to go to the funeral. Showing up for people means taking them at their word.

  Say, “How did they die?” This is especially important to remember for less recent losses that happen to come up in everyday conversation. Some causes of death are really upsetting, private, or taboo, or just Not Good Brunch Talk. Instead, try, “I’m so sorry to hear that; I had no idea.”

  Talk about the time your dog died.

  If ever you’re not sure what to say or what not to say, ask yourself: Is this necessary? Is this kind?

  How to Be a Good Ally

  An ally is a person who stands with or advocates for individuals and groups that they are not personally a part of. You might have heard the term in the context of race, gender, and/or sexuality, but it applies to a lot of other circumstances as well. Showing up is about showing up for everyone, especially people who have less privilege and power than you do. Here are some tips to help you get started.

  Actually see people’s full identity.

  Believing everyone is equal and deserving of love, support, and happiness is a good thing, but saying “I didn’t even realize you were [identity]” or “I don’t see color” communicates that these differences don’t matter. What you probably mean is it shouldn’t matter. But here in reality, it does, and it’s important to acknowledge that.

  Instead of expecting others to educate you, educate yourself.

  We are so blessed to live in a time when Google exists!

  Listen.

  When a person from a marginalized group is talking, it’s a good time to STFU. But also: Listen to people from different groups or backgrounds regularly. Look at the authors you’re reading, the influencers you follow, the podcasts you listen to the most; do they all look/sound/seem alike in key ways? And seek out a broad range of voices within these groups (because all of the people of a certain background don’t necessarily share the same views).

  Shut down shitty jokes and comments.

  My two favorite responses for these moments come from Alison Green of Ask a Manager: “I hope you aren’t saying that because you think I/we agree with you” and “I hope you don’t mean that like it sounds.” Elegant, direct, effective.

  Hand over the mic.

  Sometimes speaking up on behalf of someone is the work; other times, you should seek to amplify the voices of people whose lived experiences are being discussed. If you’re not sure, ask what they’d prefer. You can also apply ring theory here—dump your thoughts and feelings out to the people who are not marginalized versus in to the people at the center of the ring in a given situation.

  Let people label themselves, reclaim slurs or insults related to their identity, and/or make jokes about their identity.

  Not all words are ours to use, not all jokes are ours to make, and the “But [someone else] said it!!!” argument is intellectually dishonest. The appropriateness of certain words, nicknames, and jokes is dependent on the identity of the speaker and their relationship to the subject matter. This isn’t complicated or confusing; if you called your teachers Mr. or Mrs. instead of using their first names or calling them “Mom” and “Dad,” then you already understand this.

  Avoid bombarding people with upsetting articles/news that relate to their identity.

  Here’s what I mean: I, a woman, read and share articles about sexism and violence against women fairly frequently. Sometimes my male friends will come across an article about a really horrible incident of sexism or violence against women and think, “I should send that to Rachel!” Which I get! It seems like the sort of thing I’d be interested in. But sometimes it’s really jarring or triggering or I need a break from the terrible news cycle. So it’s wise to be gentle and thoughtful when sharing this kind of content.

  When you need help or support, lean on other allies.

  There will be times when you as an ally might feel overwhelmed, confused, or even defensive, and you’ll need to work through or process those feelings with someone. A person in the marginalized group affected isn’t the right audience for this. That’s when it’s helpful to turn to Google or talk to your fellow allies.

  Why Venmo Is My Favorite Sympathy Card

  When something awful happens to a friend, our first instinct, as decent people, is to do one of two things: send flowers or bring food. These are the classic “Sorry everything is terrible” options that have stood the test of time. Except they . . . kind of haven’t. If you’re in Maryland and your friend is in a suburb in Michigan, it’s not like you can just leave a casserole on their front porch, and sending not-shitty flowers long-distance can be surprisingly difficult. Even if you live nearby, these options aren’t for everyone—some people don’t like flowers, or you may be a terrible cook. Enter Venmo, the dark-horse third when it comes to expressing sympathy.

  Yes, Venmo, the app that lets you seamlessly send and receive money from friends without ever paying any fees. Since I’ve entered my thirties—a time when shit starts getting REAL real, turns out—I’ve discovered that the PayPal’s sexier younger sibling is also a fantastic way to be there for someone when they are in crisis, in whatever way they need you to be there.

  After a friend’s miscarriage a few years ago, our friend group discussed sending her flowers. But in the end, I just collected money from everyone via Venmo, and then Venmo’d the sum to the friend privately with a note to use it for cabs to and from doctor’s appointments, takeout, wine, and snacks—anything that might make one of the worst days of her life a tiny bit less bad. Another time, when I was having a very shitty week, a friend Venmo’d me fifteen dollars with the bouquet emoji. “I couldn’t get flowers delivered to you that quickly,” she said. “So pick some up for yourself on your way home.” I don’t think I ever bought the flowers, and instead spent the money to have a burrito delivered that night. Who cares? Not my friend; it was important to her that I get some kind of nice thing for myself, not that I get the exact nice thing she believed I needed. We both understood that the cash was meant to be a choose-your-own-solace-adventure care package.

  Venmo also comes in handy when the thing your friend needs most is . . . money. In that moment of unexpected awfulness, your friend may not have it. And that is where you can, on occasion, step in. Of course, this assumes that you have the money to spend in the first place, but if you were going to send flowers, then that’s a safe assumption.

  Now, to be able to get on board with this, you may have to set aside some deeply held cultural beliefs about money and etiquette and the “right” way to respond to tragedy. And I get that delivering a sympathy gift to a grieving friend in Venmo’s pizza emoji–laden interface might sound a little . . . newfangled. But not everyone mourns the same way or wants a lot of attention when they are grieving. There’s something to be said for offering support from a distance—especially if your friend is dealing with the sort of loss that tends to be stigmatized. Beaming a sympathy gift directly to someone’s phone lets them receive it and react to it privately.

  The key to making this not seem weird lies in what you say when you Venmo the money. What you’re not going to do is send fifty dollars with “sry bout yr cancer” followed by the “see no evil” monkey emoji. Instead, reference the established expression of sympathy that the money is standing in for. “This is for flowers” tells them “This is for you to buy something lovely.” “Snacks/wine/bourbon” is code for “Something comforting to consume.” “Seamless” or “Dinners this week” clearly means “Foodstuffs
of any sort.” And “Ubers/Lyfts” translates to “Something to make your life slightly more convenient.” When in doubt, you can always add a “Because I can’t do this for you IRL” to it, as in, “Because I can’t be there to do X for you, use this to pay for Y.”

  When it comes to responding to grief, trauma, and tragedy, the thought is very much what counts. So whenever you don’t know what to do to support someone who is struggling, maybe just Venmo them. Remember to set the visibility to “participants only.” Be sure to say “I love you and I’m here for you.” Select your finest emoji. Then tap “pay,” and be grateful that we have modern technology to make the age-old tradition of comforting the sick, the sad, and the grieving a tiny bit easier.

  Chapter 10

  So, Somebody Fucked Up

  F uck-ups will happen—we’re humans, after all—but you can still choose to show up in those moments. And that doesn’t mean swallowing your hurt or letting people walk all over you. Far from it, in fact. Showing up in this context means approaching failures (your own and other people’s) with true compassion, generosity, vulnerability, and confidence. It means having difficult conversations, addressing boundary violations and jerk behavior, owning your mistakes, offering genuine apologies, and—yes, sometimes—ending friendships.

  If somebody fucked up and you aren’t sure how to proceed (Reach out? Ignore it? Run away and change your name???), you can always return to the four basic steps: noticing, processing, naming, and responding. Whenever you’re feeling lost in a friendship, showing up—for them, for yourself, for both of you—is a compass that will guide you on your way.

  Radical Candor in Friendships