Just Guyton

There are four words that I don’t think we say nearly enough.

I’m proud of you.

They’re simple words. They don’t cost anything. They take about two seconds to say.

But sometimes they can mean everything.

I’ve been thinking lately about what it feels like when you really want to hear those words from someone and they never come.

You accomplish something. You take a chance. You do something that scares you. Maybe somewhere inside, you’re quietly hoping someone will notice and say, I’m proud of you.

And sometimes all you get is silence.

That can hurt more than I think people realize.

But I’ve also learned something else.

There is a difference between someone supporting you and someone being seen supporting you.

Sometimes the words people say publicly don’t match what they say to you privately.

Sometimes you’ll hear encouragement underneath a post that you’ve never heard sitting across from that person.

And I’ve learned to pay attention to that difference.

Because real support doesn’t need an audience.

My husband is my biggest cheerleader.

When writing a book was still nothing more than an idea, he told me to write it.

So I did.

When I finished the first draft, he read it.

Nobody was watching.

There was no social media post underneath it. There were no likes. There was no audience.

It was just him, me, and something I had poured a whole lot of myself into.

And he gave me his honest opinion.

Now I have this blog.

He reads what I write. He tells me what he really thinks. He shares it. He listens when I toss ideas around. He encourages me when I’m questioning myself.

And he tells me he’s proud of me.

Not just where other people can see it.

He tells me.

There’s something about hearing those words from someone who genuinely believes in you that makes you stand a little taller.

It makes you think maybe that ridiculous idea you had isn’t so ridiculous.

Maybe you should try.

Maybe you should keep going.

Maybe you really can do this.

I’ve realized that support isn’t always applause.

Sometimes support is participation.

It’s reading the first draft.

It’s listening to an idea before it becomes anything.

It’s giving an honest opinion instead of simply saying what someone wants to hear.

It’s sharing the thing they created.

It’s encouraging them when nobody else is paying attention yet.

It’s showing up when there is absolutely nobody around to see you show up.

I think we sometimes assume people know how we feel.

Of course they know I’m proud of them.

Of course they know I believe in them.

Of course they know I’m cheering for them.

But what if they don’t?

What if they’ve spent years waiting to hear it?

I’ve spent enough time noticing the people who weren’t cheering for me.

These days, I’m trying to pay more attention to the people who are.

Because I’m starting to understand that I don’t need an entire room full of people clapping for me.

I just need the right people in the room.

And I no longer measure love by what people say underneath my posts.

I measure it by who is there when there is nothing to comment on.

So if you’re proud of somebody, tell them.

Don’t wait until they succeed.

Tell them while they’re trying.

Tell them while the dream is still just an idea.

Tell them when they’re questioning whether they’re good enough.

And maybe most importantly, tell them when nobody else is around to hear you say it.

Four little words might not seem like much.

But to the person who has been waiting to hear them?

They might sound a whole lot like:

Keep going. You can do this.