Until I Realized I Needed to Be the Wind Beneath Mine
I’ve spent a lifetime being the wind beneath everyone else’s wings.
I didn’t realize it while I was doing it.
I thought I was simply loving people.
Supporting them.
Believing in them.
Seeing their potential and reminding them of it when they couldn’t see it themselves.
And especially over the last twelve years of running businesses, I have crossed paths with some truly incredible people. Brilliant people. Creative people. Hardworking people. People with big dreams and the determination to make them happen.
And when I believed in someone, I was all in.
I shared their work.
I talked about their businesses.
I connected them with people.
I encouraged their ideas.
I created opportunities.
I celebrated their successes.
I helped them figure things out.
I reminded them of what they were capable of.
I became the wind beneath their wings.
And somewhere deep inside me was an expectation I didn’t fully recognize:
Someday, they’ll do the same for me.
Not because I believed anyone owed me something.
But because that was how I understood love.
That was how I understood friendship.
That was how I understood community.
I support you. You support me.
It seemed simple.
Except life spent the better part of twelve years teaching me that it doesn’t always work that way.
When Support Doesn’t Come Back
Many of those relationships eventually ended.
Some quietly.
Some painfully.
Some with frustration.
Some with judgment.
Some with misunderstandings.
Some simply ran their course.
And again and again, I found myself wrestling with the same question:
Why are they being so selfish?
I loved them.
Why wasn’t I receiving that same love?
I supported them.
Why weren’t they supporting me?
I celebrated them.
Why didn’t they seem equally excited to celebrate me?
And perhaps the hardest part was watching some of the people I had supported soar.
Their businesses grew.
Their dreams materialized.
Their manifestations became reality.
Their lives seemed to be moving.
And sometimes I would sit there wondering:
What about me?
Why am I working this hard and still feeling like I’m fighting for every inch?
Why does everyone else seem to be flying while I feel like I’m standing on the ground?
For a long time, I couldn’t understand it.
Until suddenly, I did.
I Wasn’t Jealous. I Was Unfocused.
That realization slapped me right across the face.
I wasn’t jealous of them.
I was proud of them.
They were talented.
They were hardworking.
They were brilliant.
There was a reason I surrounded myself with these people in the first place.
Their success wasn’t taking anything away from me.
The problem wasn’t that they were flying.
The problem was that I had spent so much time creating wind for everyone else’s wings that I had forgotten to create any for mine.
I wasn’t unfocused in the traditional sense.
I worked constantly.
I had ideas.
I created.
I served.
I built.
I showed up.
I was incredibly focused.
Just not enough on me.
My energy was scattered across everyone else’s dreams.
Everyone else’s problems.
Everyone else’s businesses.
Everyone else’s potential.
Everyone else’s next step.
Everyone else’s wings.
Then I wondered why I didn’t have enough wind left to lift my own.
The Expectation I Didn’t Know I Had
Looking back, I can see something else now too.
Every time I poured myself into someone, part of me expected that eventually the energy would circle back.
Not transactionally.
I wasn’t keeping score.
But subconsciously, I believed reciprocity was inevitable.
If I showed people how deeply I could support them, eventually someone would support me that deeply too.
And when they didn’t?
It hurt.
Sometimes tremendously.
But perhaps they weren’t failing a test they had agreed to take.
Perhaps I was holding them to an expectation I had never actually spoken.
That’s a hard realization.
But it’s also an incredibly freeing one.
Because it means I don’t have to make anyone the villain anymore.
I can look back at those connections with grace.
With gratitude.
With appreciation for what they taught me.
Some people showed me friendship.
Some showed me collaboration.
Some showed me possibility.
Some showed me what I wanted.
Others showed me what I would never accept again.
And some taught me one of the greatest lessons of my life:
Stop waiting for someone else to become the wind beneath your wings.
What If I Gave That Energy to Me?
That’s the question I’m sitting with now.
What happens when all of that belief comes home?
What happens when the woman who could see potential in everyone else starts seeing her own?
What happens when the person who could brainstorm everyone else’s possibilities starts brainstorming hers?
What happens when the energy used to promote everyone else begins promoting her own dreams?
What happens when the encouragement she freely gave away becomes the voice inside her own head?
What happens when she becomes just as invested in her own success as she has always been in everyone else’s?
Maybe that’s the shift.
Not becoming less generous.
Not becoming less supportive.
Not closing my heart.
Not deciding people can’t be trusted.
I don’t want any of those things.
I love being someone who believes in people.
That’s part of who I am.
But I no longer need to abandon myself while doing it.
I can cheer for you and cheer for me.
I can believe in your dream and protect time for mine.
I can celebrate your success without making myself responsible for creating it.
I can give without unconsciously waiting for repayment.
And I can receive support when it comes without depending upon it to move forward.
Becoming My Own Wind
Maybe the last twelve years weren’t showing me that people are selfish.
Maybe they were showing me where I had placed my power.
I kept waiting for the wind I had given away to eventually blow back toward me.
And now I understand:
I can create my own.
I can put my energy behind my ideas.
My business.
My creativity.
My writing.
My dreams.
My joy.
My life.
And strangely, there isn’t bitterness in realizing this.
There’s freedom.
Because I don’t regret believing in people.
I don’t regret helping.
I don’t regret loving.
I don’t regret being the wind beneath someone’s wings when they needed it.
I just finally understand that I deserve that version of me too.
So I’ll keep cheering.
I’ll keep loving.
I’ll keep celebrating people when they rise.
But I’m not standing on the ground watching everyone else fly anymore.
I’ve got wings too.
And this time?
I’m becoming the wind beneath my own.