The Euphoria of Saying “I Support You”

I remember this comedian telling a joke.

He said that during a time when America’s finest were being deployed to war, he was sitting in first class. Patriotism was at an all-time high, and someone walked onto the plane in full military uniform — wearing it proud and loud. As the soldier boarded, people clapped.

The comedian said to himself,

“I should give that soldier my first-class seat.”

The audience cheered at the thought — a sweet, noble gesture. But the comedian cut them off:

“I didn’t actually do that shit. I just thought about it. I thought about what a great guy I would be if I did it. And as that soldier walked to the back of the plane, I just sat there smiling — enjoying the dream of doing something so great.”

That joke always stuck with me.

Because I honestly believe a lot of people live with that exact same mindset.

Especially when it comes to saying,

“I’ll support you.”

People love to say they got you — that they’re down, they’ll ride, they’ll show up in whatever form you need. They’ll place a hand on your shoulder and feed you lines like:

“I got you.”

“You know you can count on me.”

“Of course, we’re family.”

But truth is — most of them are living in that comedian’s moment. Feeling like good people just because they said they would be.

They mean well, but when it’s time to put those words into motion…

Poof. They vanish like a Vegas magician in smoke and lights.

“Oh, you didn’t think I was actually gonna put effort into supporting you, did you?”

“Oh silly rabbit… tricks are for kids.”

Being supportive is more than words.

It’s more than hashtags, simple gestures, or performative social media likes.

Support is showing up.

It’s not just asking “What do you need?” — it’s actually taking action on the answer.

And here’s the thing: you don’t have to break yourself to help someone else.

You can always be honest about what you can, will, or won’t do. That’s real.

Set boundaries so your support doesn’t become a burden — but if you can do the thing, and you’re willing to do the thing?

Then do. that. shit.

If you don’t want to support someone — then don’t offer it. That’s honesty too.

A simple “Good luck, let me know how it turns out” can go a long way without selling false hope.

But too many people play fair-weather friend.

They offer all kinds of ride-or-die energy in the moment — and then disappear when it matters. Even if they believed it when they said it, the silence afterward hits different.

Sometimes, that silence can hurt more than if you had said nothing at all.

So here’s what I encourage:

If you’ve ever said, or plan to say,

“I’ll support you,”

take time to really understand what that means. Be upfront. Be specific.

Clarify the kind of support you’re actually willing to give.

Because for someone out here struggling to stay afloat, hearing “I got you” and then getting ghosted…

That’s like watching someone tread water while you sail by in a boat, yelling:

“Hang tight — I’m going to get help!”

And then just… floating away.

No help. No lifeline. No follow-through.

Personally?

I’d rather you just laugh and say,

“Damn… you’re fucked!”

than give me hope you were never planning to back up.