Being Needy

“To be human is to need others, and this is no flaw or weakness.” - Dr. Sue Johnson, clinical psychologist.

Regrettably, I only just began to consider that I may not be leaning into those words. I grew up only needing people, working up a sweat thinking about eating lunch in the cafeteria when my best friend was gone at an orthodontist appointment and not daring to even let myself dream of walking to the concession stand without my mom. I felt like a force of nature in my head, but when the opportunity to leave my comfort zone was presented, I always chose to disappoint myself.

I think to be human is to be vehemently complicated and often at odds within yourself. My guess is that you change your mind about 6000 times a day, regret half the things you say, and love more people than you let on, and that’s not wrong. That’s living with a brain in a world full of other people living with brains. I only wish we were always aware of the artistry of everyone’s lives around us.

When I moved to Wichita for university, I flourished. I’ve always found it easier to be outgoing when I’m not around anyone who knows me very well, so I fell into a lot of fun friendships and started spending more time with more people, making the times when I chose to be alone sweeter and regenerative. I was involved in as much society as I could ever want, but when those relationships didn’t sustain, I started sabotaging future relationships. There was a while when I wasn’t choosing to be alone, but that lasted so long that it turned into my not wanting to enter into any new affairs that weren’t organic and placed right into my palm. That looked like refusing to reach out to people I admired and wanted to be friends with, because I wanted them to want me first. It looked like me waiting for ages to ask someone to be my mentor, because I didn’t want to have to ask them to be involved in my life. It looked like reading “Thoughts in Solitude” by Thomas Merton, because I wanted my reclusiveness to be validated.

(Side note: Thoughts in Solitude is a brilliant book, and Thomas Merton is a noteworthy man.)

Even now I lead a mission to convince myself that I don’t need other people in order to be happy. Self-sufficiency sounded pretty cool until I realized how lonely it was for me. To quench my thirst for adventure, I went to Arkansas for a day by myself, and just a couple of weeks ago I went camping by myself. Both times, I wanted to at least feel capable and independent, but I just felt alone. One of the lyrics in a song by Theo Katzman that I really like is, “It’s good to be alone. No one to call you on the phone. After a month out on the road, no one to tell you welcome home.” When I was in Arkansas, there was no one for me to talk to, no one to laugh with, no one to go on a hike with. When I went camping, there was no one to make me feel safer, no one to throw a frisbee to, no one to make conversation with. My papa has told me the story of him going to the Grand Canyon for the first time, and it’s haunting. The first time he went to the Grand Canyon, he was alone, and after he took in the awe and wonder of its magnificence, he looked over, and there was no one there to share it with.

It’s not an imposition for you to be needy. You are not wrong in asking instead of being asked. It’s okay to feel 10,000 different emotions in 2 minutes. It’s okay to think things that contradict each other. It’s okay to love people whom you disagree with. It’s okay to need to be alone and want a hug at the same time. This is an ever changing dance, and it flows and flows and flows.

By running away from contact, I deny my humanity. And so I will reach out, and I encourage you to reach out too. And if I reach a thousand times and no one reaches back, I will reach again, because I am needy, and that is no flaw or weakness.