A very close friend of mine became ill a few months ago. While he will survive the illness, his recovery is slow and I miss my great friend so much. His illness brought to my attention the fact that this man has been my rock for a couple of years. That rock is missing from my life right now and I am heartbroken about it.

As I was thinking about the effect that Don has had on my life, I came to the realization that no man has ever been my rock. I know that sounds ridiculous but it’s true: not my husband or my father or any other man in my life. I have had no male significant others for support.

As a matter of fact, if I am using the word rock to describe my friend Don and our friendship, I can use the word quicksand to describe pretty much all of my male role models. With the exception of a few, I have spent my life with quicksand.

I love love loved my father, but he faced his own demons and wasn’t a pillar of strength for me. Sadly, I would guess that my daughter might feel the same way about her father, however, I don’t want to put words into her mouth. I can only project my own feelings there. I had no siblings, so no brothers to look up to.

And, now that I have had a rock in my life, I don’t think I can ever go back to the quicksand that I settled for in earlier years. I need that strength around me. I need that settled feeling around me, that comfortable, soft-place-to-land feeling that comes with a man or woman who is a rock.

If I try hard enough I can actually envision sitting on a rock, resting, regrouping. And, quicksand? I am just dancing. Always dancing trying to stay just above the surface, and constantly floundering.

If you can picture yourself in each of these situations, you know what I’m talking about. And you can feel what I am feeling. Never, ever, ever allow yourself to be sucked in by that quicksand. Go with a rock every time.

Do you have a quicksand story? Or a rock story? I would love to hear from you.