You Said You Support Me

You said

you support me.

You know.

You said it like a promise.

You said it like a shield.

You said it

as if those words,

on their own,

could carry me.

They cannot.

Support is not a sentence.

It is not a like on a post

you did not even read.

Support is work.

Support is attention.

Support is presence.

Today was a milestone.

Proof

that the long nights

and the quiet days

are not invisible.

A small sign

that all this effort

might mean something.

I wanted

to share it with you.

You, the one

who said you support me.

You, who tells me

you are here,

anything I need.

You said

you support me.

I believed you.

Support

is not a label

you put on yourself.

It is a practice.

It is a habit.

It is a choice,

over and over again.

Support is

Reassurance

When I doubt myself,

you say

Stay with it

You are not crazy

It is hard, I see that

You remind me that slow progress is still progress.

Asking what I need

You do not assume.

You ask

Is there something I can do

Do you need to talk this out

Do you want ideas or just listening?

You give me a chance to say what would actually help.

Talking things out with me

You pick up the phone.

You let me unpack the chaos.

You listen while I go in circles,

then you help me find the thread.

You do not rush me to the solution.

You sit with the mess.

Encouragement

Not empty flattery.

Real encouragement,

rooted in who I am.

You say

I know how hard it is for you

I know why this matters to you

You remind me of my reasons

when I forget them.

Saying I am proud of you

Not only when I reach some obvious big success.

Also when I keep going.

When I show up,

again and again.

Sharing my work

You tell others about what I do.

You say

She is doing something important.

You use your own voice to amplify mine.

Naming my milestones

You celebrate with me.

You say

This is big

You worked for this

You deserve this

I am glad you did not give up.

You let the moment be as big as it feels to me.

Taking action

You do something.

You show up.

You ask a question.

You pick up my call when I need you.

Support is not theoretical.

Support is verbs.

The work is lonely.

They do not want to see what it takes.

They say

That is cool

Good for you

But they do not show up.

They say

I support you

But they do not act on it.

I understand that this journey is mine.

I know I must carry my own risk.

But what is the point of courage if there is no one to witness it?

What is the point of doing something difficult if there is no one to say

I see you

I am with you

You are not alone in this moment.

We keep saying that we care.

That we are here.

Anything you need.

Then we disappear

when it becomes inconvenient.

When listening would take time.

When picking up the phone would require real presence.

Is this who we have become?

You said you support me.

You said you are here, always.

But when I needed you,

you chose silence.

You might say

I sent a message

I said congratulations

You were busy

You were tired

You had a long day

So did I.

I am tired most days.

I still show up.

So when you tell me

that you support me,

and then you do not show up,

what you are really saying is

My comfort is more important than your milestone.

Do you hear how heavy that is?

Real support is rare.

True fellowship is rare.

Loyalty is rare.

The kind of loyalty

that does not vanish when life gets complicated.

The kind of loyalty that does not shrink

when success feels small or strange.

We are quick with big words now.

Love you

Proud of you

Always here

But if there is no action,

the words are hollow.

If there is no listening,

the words are noise.

Support means

putting your attention where your mouth is.

It means giving the person in front of you

the dignity of your time.

It means

letting them be excited

without making them feel silly or alone.

Sometimes support is as simple

as picking up the phone.

Letting the other person breathe out.

Letting them say

I did something today

I am proud of it

I need someone to be proud with me.

Is that really so much to ask?

You said you support me.

You will probably say it again.

You may think

your words are enough.

You may think

I am too sensitive.

You may think

I should be stronger,

more independent,

less needy.

But I am not ashamed

of wanting to be witnessed.

I am not ashamed of

wanting real human support.

I am not ashamed of

wanting someone

to stand next to me

while I build something

uncertain and new.

I am not asking you

to solve my problems.

I am asking you

to be

who you say

you are.

You said

you support me.

Then support me.

Or be honest

and say

I like the idea of you succeeding.

Emese Hamilton