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The CC - I Choose You
I Choose YouThe other evening I was re-watching the 2014 film “The Judge”. It was unpleasantly real, even harsh. There’s a closing bit with father and son, estranged for years, out fishing on a still lake. That short scene slipped past my defenses, and made me contemplate the simple security of being loved. The father, the judge, turns to son, the lawyer, and says quietly, “You are.” Son looks over. “I am?” “Question you asked me… about the best lawyer and all? I choose you.”, the father quietly declares. Son doesn’t respond with words. He just tears up a little. Then he casts his line back into the water. “I choose you.” Something in those three words broke open a sad history in me. For so long I thought it was about me being praised and validated by success. No, all along it was about being chosen. Seen. Loved. Why is it that we rarely talk about such a basic longing? Into my 40’s, I remember standing in groups, not knowing where to sit or who I belonged with. I would smile widely, trying to be open and affable, and try to convince myself and everyone else that I was happy to be there. But inside I was asking a quiet question: “Is this the price I’ll always have to pay to be liked?” It took me years to understand that what I was really asking was: “Am I loved? And if I am… does that mean people like me? Or are those two different things?” Well, I’ve logged over 100,000 hours of work. I’ve built bikes. Companies. I’ve built teams and careers. And yet the same question lingers quietly beneath all the doing. “Am I loved? This is, I think, one of the most basic psychological needs we have: a secure, unseen sense that we are loved. Not the transactional “I like you because you do things for me”. But the kind that exists whether we are achieving, confident, productive, or old and frail. The deeper work of my years isn’t building careers, wealth, or competence. It’s allowing myself to believe that I’m seen and loved already. Not someday. Not when I “earn it.” Over the years, I’ve learned I need guides. People who walk alongside me for a bit: a conversation, a season, occasionally a few years. Many of you have offered me perspective, challenge, and companionship. Most of us don’t need grand gestures. We don’t need applause. We don’t even need the words “I love you” said aloud. Though that helps. What we long for is what that son received in that boat. To be quietly, unmistakably told, “I choose you.” I would love to connect with you on LinkedIn and Facebook See you next week, Grayson Did someone forward you this email? Get weekly reflections straight to your inbox by subscribing to The Compassionate Competitor. Want to share this issue via text, social media, or email? Just copy and paste this link: [ARCHIVE URL GOES HERE] |
Grayson Bain
Join us if you're yearning for business insights peppered with adventure, humanity, and a dash of humility. It’s more than success; it’s about significance.
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