When moments matter, don’t keep them to yourself

Oct 18, 2023

Tears stream uncontrollably down my face at 8:13am as I’m driving in bumper-to-bumper traffic. I’m listening to The Modern Love podcast. This episode features Lucy Coulson’s Tiny Love Story* where she is envious of a guy’s girlfriend, wanting to ask her a million questions about him: How does he like his coffee? What does he say about his childhood? Does he want children? The ending is abrupt as the author reveals that she’s not wondering about an ex-boyfriend or someone she admires from afar. She’s wondering these intimate questions about none other than her brother. And that’s when the tears started flowing, as I recognized a similar longing shared so succinctly and perfectly.

My brother and I get along great. We always have. But the Tiny Love Story brought up the question that I didn’t want to acknowledge: What do I really know about my brother? Why does it feel like I have a surface-level relationship with someone I’ve known for their entire life? I don’t know how he likes his coffee. I don’t know what he likes to eat for breakfast. I don’t know who he is, truly.

Fast forward a year

That Tiny Love Story sparked a recognition within me the moment I heard something that I didn’t know I needed to hear - making this a moment that mattered.

It prompted me to take action and make an effort to get to know my brother. Now I bug him at least once a month to talk. I know he takes his coffee with cream and he appreciates a good cup of Costa Rican coffee. I know how he likes to spend his Saturdays. I know that he doesn’t sweat the small stuff.

Lucy Coulson’s Tiny Love Story validated a truth.
She helped me make a change.
And she didn’t even know.

From time to time, I thought about how crazy it is that someone can have a profound impact on another person and not know it. Eventually, my thoughts became more insistent and I wondered if I should do something about it:

I should send her an email to let her know the impact she had on me.
No, that’s stupid. I’m just some random person.
It wouldn’t be a lot of effort to send an email. What do I have to lose?
She might not write back.
Does that really matter?

I had an internal back-and-forth between wanting to connect and being afraid. I was scared to reach out and let someone else - a stranger - know that they matter to me. It felt too vulnerable.

In the end, I did it. I overcame my doubt and worry and I hit send on my email on a Monday night at 11:06pm:

I heard your Tiny Love story about your brother on the Modern Love podcast almost a year ago and it has stuck with me. Your story took the words and feelings in my head and validated them (and made me ugly cry for almost 10 minutes lol).
Your story helped me make a much desired, positive change in my life and take action on something that I was avoiding and didn’t know how to take the first step with. Thank you.

I opened my eyes the next morning and immediately grabbed my phone, scrolling through my email hoping for a response. Of course, there wasn’t one, but, at that moment, I realized it didn’t matter.

I did the thing I needed to do. I said what I wanted to say. I acknowledged the moment that mattered.

Moments that matter

They happen when someone shares something with you that you didn’t know you needed but, in that moment, something clicks. Unspoken need meets internal recognition at the intersection of here & now and the moment is created. These moments are magical, moving, and meaningful. Yet so many of them exist unacknowledged.

Why?

Lucy Coulson did email me back and, rather poetically, told me that my email brought tears to her eyes. Two strangers came together and made moments that matter. We didn’t let them exist unacknowledged. We each had the courage to say, “You matter. Thank you.”

Will you have the courage to do the same?

*The Modern Love Podcast episode is called Confessions of a Late Bloomer. Lucy Coulson’s Tiny Love Story is featured at 10:31 minutes in this episode. A transcript of the episode can be found here.