Our Story (Jacque's Version)

I have never been someone who felt like I fit neatly into the usual crowd. For many of us, vulnerability and asking for help never came easily. I grew up believing the best way to get something done was to do it yourself - and I know I’m not alone in that. A great many people still believe burning the candle at both ends is the norm, even in a post-covid world. And perfectionism is still seen as a badge of honor. Truthfully, if it weren’t for my supportive husband, I couldn’t have realistically kept all those plates spinning.

There is something almost humorous about believing we can handle everything on our own even when the truth is sitting right in front of us. Our inner voice can be persuasive in all the wrong ways. It tells us the stories we think we should hear instead of the ones we need.

Many of us can appear confident and outgoing on the outside, especially when life calls for it. But inside, we can often feel like a tangled mix of self-doubt, worry, and social anxiety. For anyone who moves through the world this way, you are not alone. Showing one version of yourself to the world while holding another inside is not a flaw. It is simply part of being human.

And for those who feel more at ease alone than in a crowd, moving through the world can feel a bit different. When your mind tends to process things in clear, binary, black‑and‑white lines, it isn’t always easy to read or respond to the emotional signals others expect. That can mean fewer close connections, and sometimes feeling like you’re on the outside looking in.

Fortunately, a lot of my emotional awakening began after I had my son. To be clear, I am still working on being the best version of myself that I can be, but that was the first step in helping me see how true connection matters. The need to understand him, connect with him, protect him, and support him opened something in me that I did not even realize had been closed.

So, when I met Sarah, I found myself genuinely curious. Who was this mother of the little girl my son adored? What I quickly learned was that I was meeting someone extraordinary: smart, yes, but also warm, kind, forgiving, and patient in ways I had rarely seen.

After that first meeting, it was Sarah who reached out to set up a playdate for our kids. That simple gesture meant everything. As someone who can be just as introverted as me, she taught me—and continues to teach me over and over again—that vulnerability is the key to real connection. That showing up matters. That friendship isn’t about perfection; it’s about presence.