One of my dearest friends premiered her film at the Tribeca Film Festival last week—and I was there to take in the moment. Sitting alongside my co-cheerleaders in the audience, we held onto each other and watched our girl shine on a panel of women filmmakers as we have done at all the screenings, fundraisers, focus groups and award ceremonies for the past 20+ years.
Bearing witness to my friend’s optimism, resilience and dogged persistence in an industry that’s only beginning to recognize the talent, value and contribution of women, leaves me with a heart full of gratitude to be on this journey alongside her. It has been a road filled with both disappointment and accolades, but being there—on both ends of the spectrum—is what makes the reward that much sweeter for everyone.
It’s a counterintuitive lesson in life, but I’ve found that somehow, it’s easier to show up for friends during the hard times. We spring into action, call in our resources and project manage the shit out of a crisis. We often feel more vulnerable showing up for the highs and I’ve taken note of those friends who’ve been there for me.
In the audience when I was singing my heart out in my twenties.
Peppered along the NYC marathon route with signs, families and protection from the wind.
Front row at my first talks and workshops after my career transition.
It’s not always easy to be there. It takes:
Saying yes and then rearranging your life logistics to make it so.
Confidence in your own successes and progress on your path.
Freedom from comparisons and judgment.
But what I continue to learn from showing up for my people and being supported by them is that while we are all on our own unique paths, our momentum, our resilience and our joy is collective. We feel it exponentially when it is shared. And it is not about critique or validation. Being there is about making people feel truly seen…and loved.