
Who really holds you when life gets heavy?
Fibromyalgia changed the way I experience love.
Not just romantic love.
All love.
Friendships.
Family.
Support.
Safety.
Connection.
Everything.
And honestly?
One of the biggest things it taught me is this:
People can love you and still not have the capacity to hold what you’re carrying.
That’s a painful realization.
But it’s real.
In the beginning, one of the things that deeply connected me and my wife was understanding invisible illness.
She has MS.
I have fibro.
Different conditions.
But similar emotional language.
That connection mattered.
Because for once, I didn’t feel like I had to over-explain myself.
She understood the ups and downs.
The unpredictability.
The exhaustion.
The emotional weight of trying to function while your body feels unreliable.
And what’s wild is…
I originally thought I would mostly be the one supporting her.
But life flipped it.
There were moments where she was helping me walk.
Helping me move.
Helping me simply survive hard days.
And that changed my understanding of love.
Because real love isn’t just romance.
Real love is:
“I got you. Lean on me.”
That kind of support heals something deeper than the body.
At the same time though…
This journey also exposed relationships.
Heavy.
Because hard seasons reveal people.
And honestly?
Sometimes friends become family.
And sometimes family becomes acquaintances.
Not always because they’re bad people.
Sometimes they simply don’t have the emotional capacity.
And that truth took me years to accept.
People say:
“I’m here if you need me.”
But when life actually gets heavy…
A lot of people freeze.
A lot of people disappear emotionally.
A lot of people genuinely don’t know what to do with pain that deep.
And I’ve had to stop taking that personally.
Not everybody is built to hold emotional weight.
But now?
I know what real support actually looks like to me.
And it starts with emotional depth.
Not gifts.
Not money.
Not surface-level check-ins.
Real support looks like:
- asking deeper questions
- wanting to understand
- consistency
- emotional presence
- communication
- honesty
I’m a communicator.
I love conversations.
Depth matters to me.
So when somebody asks:
“How are you really handling this?”
That means everything.
Because safety for me now is emotional.
Being able to lay my struggles down somewhere safely.
Being heard without judgment.
Being understood without having to perform strength every second.
And interestingly enough…
I also still want people to share their struggles with me too.
A lot of people think:
“He already has enough going on.”
But helping other people still heals me too.
Even in my worst moments, I’m usually checking on somebody else.
Because that’s genuinely who I am.
And this journey taught me something difficult about myself too:
I settled emotionally.
I accepted relationships where I gave emotional depth…
But didn’t fully receive it back.
I was always willing to walk into somebody else’s fire.
Always willing to help carry somebody else’s pain.
Even while carrying my own.
And honestly?
That wasn’t healthy.
Because over time, I realized:
I wasn’t being emotionally held the same way I held other people.
And the scary part?
I normalized it.
Not because people were evil.
Not because they didn’t care at all.
But because I became used to surviving emotionally alone.
That realization changed me.
Deeply.
Because now I understand:
I need emotionally safe people around me.
People with capacity.
People who can hold space for me too.
People who don’t see my vulnerability as “too much.”
And yes…
That makes my circle smaller.
Way smaller.
But healthier.
I’m learning that love isn’t just about who stays.
It’s about:
who can truly see you,
hold space for you,
and help you carry the weight without making you feel guilty for having it.
That’s what I want now.
Not perfection.
Not saviors.
Just depth.
And honestly?
Fibromyalgia helped me stop settling for emotional shallowness.
Because when survival becomes daily…
Love either deepens…
Or reveals itself.
Final Thought:
The people who truly love you don’t just celebrate your strength. They make space for your vulnerability, too.
