I’m an introvert by nature. No, really, I am. I can be social, but I prefer smaller groups to big crowds. I also tend to think a lot and take my time before acting on anything.

I’m used to being alone. I traveled for work for 16 years, and most of that time was spent alone, either on planes, in restaurants, or on customer sites. I’d even go to the movies by myself. Being alone doesn’t usually bother me. Being lonely, well… that’s another subject.

This coming Wednesday, the 24th, will be the 10th anniversary of my second husband’s death. On one hand, it’s hard to believe a decade has gone by, but then I look at our kids, and I see adults staring back at me. They’re no longer the vulnerable pre-teens they were. And even though they were around, I still felt a bit lonely. But never alone.

I learned after the first loss that going through the grieving process was hard enough, but to do it alone felt impossible to me. I had isolated myself and made myself alone, and that’s when the despair was able to grab onto me. That’s also when I realized that it truly does take a village.

A support group. A support structure. A shoulder to cry on. These became important components of my healing. It dawned on me this week that I never really thought of having those other people as crucial to my healing. I recognized they were there, but it wasn’t until I got into some research while working on a new book project that the importance of those components dawned on me. I had previously shared about my support group and the structure of friends that helped me, though without my recent retrospection, I feel I may have minimized their impact on my journey.

In my life’s journey, they became important. We supported each other in our lives, through grief and outside of grief, and still do.

Another component that came up in the last few weeks in my consciousness is that it’s awards season. Several of my friends received awards for their work recently, and I couldn’t be any prouder of their accomplishments and the little I was able to do to help their journey, whether it was helping raise funds or being a cheerleader for their project.

As I reflected upon their wins, seeing fellow performers booking roles, living their dreams, and absorbing the research I was doing, a pattern emerged in my view: being there for each other. As I struggled to find a universal theme to write about this week (remember, I cut off most of the drama in my life and a lot of social media), I stumbled upon this truth for myself. I don’t want to do it alone.

Life is simply easier when you have someone in your corner; when you have someone there to support you through good and bad times. I had that with my husband, but he died. I’ve found that support in my family, which includes the friends that are my chosen family. I’ve found that the village taking care of each other makes life better for me.

I love celebrating my friends’ wins, and I wrote several months ago about supporting them and lifting them up. And it’s reciprocal.

We all support each other in our goals, and we also try to lift each other up when things don’t go right or when we lose someone.

Over 400 years ago, John Donne penned, “No man is an island.” We can’t do it all ourselves; we need each other.

So, while you may feel you’re strong (you are) or that you’ve got it all under control (maybe), it helps to have someone there. Whether it’s a support group, a therapist, family, friends, or even some random author/blogger/actor guy — you are here, after all.

Take inspiration from the stories of others, create your village, and make life a little easier.