Do you remember those awkward phone calls we had to make when we were growing up?
You forgot to write down the homework assignment, so you had to call someone from your class. Maybe it was a good friend. Maybe it was someone you barely knew. You picked up the phone, dialed their house, and waited with a knot in your stomach because you had no idea who might answer… their mom, their dad, an older brother who would yell their name across the entire house.
You had to introduce yourself, ask to speak to your classmate, and then stumble through the reason you were calling. “Hi. Sorry to bother you. Do you remember what we were supposed to do for math?” It was uncomfortable. It also created a small point of connection. Maybe you talked about the confusing assignment. Maybe you complained about the teacher. Maybe the conversation lasted thirty seconds. Maybe it lasted twenty minutes.
Either way, you reached out to another person because you needed them.
Those moments happened all day long. You forgot a pencil, so you asked the person sitting next to you if you could borrow one. You missed a day of school, so you found someone who could explain what happened. You did not understand the directions, so you leaned over and whispered, “What are we supposed to be doing?”
You needed people, and people needed you.
Today, so many of those small interactions have disappeared. A student who forgets an assignment can log into the school portal. She does not need to call a classmate. If she wants to know which assignments are missing, she may never have to speak directly to her teacher. She can check an app. She often does not need to borrow paper, a pencil, notes, a calculator, or a textbook. Most of what she needs is sitting inside a computer.
Technology has made many parts of life easier. It has also removed hundreds of tiny reasons to talk to one another. Our teens can move through an entire day surrounded by people without having to connect with any of them. They can look up the answer, submit the work, order the food, watch the video, and find the directions without asking another human being for help.
And then we wonder why starting a conversation feels so hard. We wonder why they feel uncomfortable reaching out. We wonder why so many teens are lonely, even when they are constantly connected to a screen filled with other people.
Adults are living this way too. You are halfway through making dinner and realize you are missing an ingredient. Years ago, you might have knocked on a neighbor’s door and asked if she had an extra egg or a cup of sugar. Now you open Instacart. You are home sick and need something to eat. You order through DoorDash. You need a ride to the airport. You call an Uber instead of asking a friend. You cannot remember the name of the movie you watched last year. You ask Google instead of texting someone who might remember.
We have become very good at getting what we need without needing anyone. It is efficient. It is convenient. It can also feel incredibly lonely.
So many people hesitate to ask a friend for help because they do not want to be a burden. They do not want to inconvenience anyone. They do not want to appear needy. They do not want their friend to feel obligated. I understand that feeling. Asking can feel vulnerable. There is always the possibility that someone might say no, sound annoyed, or be too busy.
But when we never ask, we take something away from the relationship. We take away the opportunity for someone to show up for us. We take away the chance for them to feel trusted. We take away the moment when they get to think, “She called me because she knew I would help.”
Being needed feels good. Think about how you feel when a friend asks for your advice because she values your perspective. Think about how it feels when someone trusts you enough to admit she is having a hard day. Think about the warmth that comes from dropping off soup, sharing a ride, lending a jacket, or answering a late-night text. Those moments remind us that we matter in someone else’s life.
Our teens need those moments too. They need to experience the small give-and-take of friendship. Asking for a pencil. Saving someone a seat. Sharing notes after an absence. Helping a friend study. Calling to ask a question. Offering a ride. Bringing an extra snack. Admitting, “I don’t know how to do this. Can you help me?”
Friendship grows through these ordinary exchanges. It grows when one person reaches out and the other responds. It grows when someone risks needing and someone else gets to be needed.
When teens believe they should handle everything alone, they may protect themselves from feeling awkward or rejected. They also miss the experiences that help relationships deepen. A friendship cannot survive on memes, likes, streaks, and occasional group chats alone. People begin to feel close when they depend on each other in small, healthy ways. They remember who checked in. Who shared. Who helped. Who trusted them enough to ask.
Maybe one way we help our teens feel more connected is by encouraging them to stop solving every problem alone. Ask the classmate what the homework is, even when it is posted online. Talk to the teacher instead of only checking the portal. Ask a friend to study together. Let someone know you could use a ride. Tell a friend when you need encouragement. Give other people the opportunity to be part of your life.
We can model this too. Borrow the ingredient. Ask the neighbor. Call the friend. Let someone bring dinner when you are sick. Accept the ride. Say yes when someone offers to help, rather than immediately insisting that you are fine.
Our relationships need room for generosity in both directions. We need to be able to give, and we need to be willing to receive. We need to remember that asking for help does not automatically make us a burden. Sometimes it makes another person feel valued, capable, and trusted.
We may have gained an incredible amount of independence and convenience, but connection asks something different from us. It asks us to reach toward one another. It asks us to risk a little awkwardness. It asks us to let people know that their presence makes a difference.
Maybe our teens do not need another way to become more self-sufficient. Maybe they need more reasons to turn toward each other and say, “I could use your help.”
Because sometimes needing each other is how we remember that we belong.
