The Satisfaction of Sharing

Yesterday, I spent an hour on the phone with someone who heard me speak at a meeting last month. She was struggling with whether to leave her marriage and wanted to talk it through. I didn't give advice—I just shared my experience and listened. When we hung up, I felt full in a way that's hard to describe.

When we freely share ourselves with others, we discover that it fills us with satisfaction. This isn't the satisfaction of being helpful, or needed, or important. It's something deeper—the satisfaction of being useful in the best sense, of connecting authentically, of passing on what was given to me.

I used to think service would deplete me. After giving so much to the alcoholic, managing everyone's emotions, and carrying burdens that weren't mine, I had nothing left. The thought of service made me tired. But this is different. This gives back more than it takes.

The difference is freedom. I'm not sharing to fix her, or control outcomes, or prove my worth. I'm sharing because I have something to offer, and she wants to receive it. That mutual exchange fills both of us. The satisfaction comes from genuine connection, not from manufacturing change in someone else.

If someone reaches out to me for help, I can share my experience without trying to fix them. Just telling what happened to me, what I did, what it's like now—that's enough. The satisfaction comes from authentic connection, not from solving their problems.