This is the reason why I&#x27;ve always gravitated towards friends who were aware of their own weaknesses, open about them, and open to leaning on others for support when they needed it.<p>In practice these were often people who suffered from some kind of disability, mental or physical, or were in some kind of minority (gay, ethnic minority, etc.). They <i>had</i> to swallow their pride, they <i>had</i> to stop pretending that they had all their shit together, and they <i>had</i> to learn to give others a break as well.<p>These friends showed empathy <i>and</i> understanding, while my &#x27;normal&#x27; friends, at best, could only produce sympathy (which is still good, but not the same). And in some cases the response was pity, or worse, and thankfully very rarely, condescension.<p>One of the nice things I&#x27;ve been learning as I&#x27;m getting older and as I&#x27;m becoming less attached to &#x27;status&#x27; and ego, is that I&#x27;m realizing how true it is that there&#x27;s strength in weakness. When I get to know new people, I often force myself to be open about my particular weakness or struggles (without complaint generally), and almost every time this provides an opening for them to share theirs. Regularly, at the end of a long conversation, they&#x27;ll tell me that they feel unburdened and that they&#x27;ve never or rarely told anyone about their struggles.<p>And for me, that makes it easier to deal with what I&#x27;m dealing with, because it feels like it&#x27;s not pointless.<p>(btw, I noticed your username popping up quite often in relation to a comment that is, at the very least, thoughtful and interesting. I just wanted to mention that :))