I Got You

Many people believe that the best three words in any language are “I love you.” I’d like to put in a vote for “I got you.” Imagine you’re sitting on a curb, shaking and crying after a super frightening car accident even though you were able to walk away unharmed. Then someone sits down next to you, wraps their arms around you, and says, “I got you.” It would be exactly what you needed to hear at that moment to feel safe.

Recently I didn’t need to feel safe but I did need to find a way to make my underarms stop smelling so bad. My sweat never used to stink. Seriously. I’m being factual, not uppity. But, my post menopausal body has gone through yet another metabolism change and my underarm odor has gotten positively rank. For most people this wouldn’t be a problem. There are shelves full of antiperspirants and deodorants that would work for them, and doctors able to prescribe stronger formulas if needed. But I have sensitive skin. My body reacts badly to most topical chemicals and many natural ingredients as well. I walked into my local co-op with fingers crossed, hoping for something close to a miracle.

There was a woman working in the healthcare section who looked like some friend’s mother from my childhood who would have made us mac and cheese for lunch. I told her my dilemma. She nodded silently and then walked with quick determined steps toward the shelves of deodorant. She pointed toward a cardboard tube. “This is what I use. It’s expensive but it really works. And, it’s locally made.” She then pointed to about four other brands that she said were not nearly as good but still somewhat effective in case I needed or wanted to spend less. I told her I’d try the expensive one. She reminded me that if it didn’t work, or even if I didn’t like it, that the co-op would refund my money as long as I kept my sales slip.

She never actually said, “I got you” to me. But she did the nonverbal version quite loudly and well. I felt seen. I felt cared for. My stinky underarms were no longer something I had to live through alone. This co-op worker didn’t know me. She didn’t have to make eye contact. She didn’t have to reveal her own fight against stinkiness. But she did. Because she had me.

“I’ve got you” is never about the speaker. It’s always about the receiver of the message. It’s a no-strings-attached invitation to use someone else’s experience or groundedness to take a moment. To allow yourself to pause when you are about to spiral into abject fear or despair.

It’s the best. I suggest we start throwing fistfuls of genuine “I got you” offerings around like candy from a float.

Cinse Bonino
2023