AMY ROSE: What are the situations in which you are comfortable providing more intense care, time, and/or resources? How do you hold up a loved one going through grief? Illness? Abuse? What are the limitations of giving without impacting your own well-being that you have observed in the past?

When my grandfather died last year, I understood that my family members, of which there are very many, would be too caught up to make sure they were eating/drinking/sleeping, especially my grandmother. I made sure there was some sort of buffet situation out for people, and checked in with them to make sure they were taking care of their immediate needs. You’re not ever thinking about that shit when you lose a close loved one.

I stayed with my grandmother overnight on two occasions in the months that followed. Since she has lived with my grandfather and anywhere from one to six children/grandchildren for the past 50 years, I helped her make grocery lists because she was overwhelmed by cooking for just herself. Quiet company is key, I think. I let people talk and only ask questions if they seem to want that. I hold ’em and clean for them. I also understand that grief lasts: It doesn’t just end after a week. I let people know they can come to me and talk about it whenever.

The most loved I have ever felt has been in times when when my friends and boyfriend took care of practical concerns for me in similar ways throughout tough-ass situations. Meredith housesat for me when I had to leave town to mediate a tough situation among loved ones last year, and it made me feel so supported. Another friend offered to come sit and watch my things when an ex-boyfriend was picking up his things from my house last year. Things like that mean THE MOST.

PIXIE: Practical help, for sure. When my dad had his heart attack, I moved back in with my mom, did the grocery shopping for his low-sodium meal plan, and spent a lot of time just watching TV and talking with both of them. It was a scary time and just being there to run errands and cook and keep my dad company was a way of lifting the burden from my mother, who was already stressed to the max, understandably.

JANE MARIE: I beat myself up about this a lot. I like to think of myself as a caregiver and someone who will be there, but then when the shit hits the fan, I can get a little scared that my concerned texts/calls/emails are being perceived as a nuisance. So, I try to check in at least once a day and offer a real service: Can I bring you food/watch a movie with you/take you to an appointment? For big losses, I give out this book and offer to do the worksheets with them.

ANNE: Grief is so subjective and different for everybody, that, as a friend, you have to let the person process their loss—especially because it’s something they didn’t have control of. It’s not like they’re getting back with a wiener ex over and over—someone has been taken from their lives. So I’m very down to listen and to be that friend for as long as they need. Illness, same.

As someone who’s grieved, I do think it’s important to steer the conversation toward other things, too. When my nana died, my aunt would say, “Life is for the living,” which helped. Sometimes when you’re sad and grieving, the last thing you want is to talk about it. While I’ll be the emotional life raft for pals going through a loss, I’ll also be very quick to like, go to the mall with them, or to the movies—fun things where we can space out the grief with distraction. Also, then I don’t feel like a therapist, because we’re still doing and acting and living, not just sitting there.

CHANEL: I initially have a hard time interacting with people who are having a hard time. Like others have said, I like to focus on helping the person with the practical things, and then obviously being there for them emotionally. I tend not to question their behavior so much. After two uncles and my grandma died this past year, my mom was very much in emotional disarray. I always tried to find ways to make her laugh, just to get her mind off things. I respected any distance or intimacy my mom wanted. If she wanted to stay in her room in the dark, we didn’t bother her, but if she wanted to talk, we talked. I think it’s all about being attuned to the other person’s emotions and behaviors before figuring out a plan of, What should I do?

JAMIA: Big transitions rock us to the core. Beginnings. Endings. Rock bottoms. Loss. Celebrations. Graduations. Peaks. Lows. All of these things have shaken me, and I have seen it happen to those I love, and I try to be there for them all.

CHANEL: How do you tell someone that you need space from their emotions, especially after they’ve gone through a breakup or something?

JAMIA: I say that I love them, empathize with them, and care about them, but I need some space with that specific topic or conversation because it is triggering for me. I bring it back to self-care and try to offer them other resources so they don’t feel alone. This is never easy, and I’m not good at doing this. It usually happens when I can’t take it anymore.

SUZY: Draw the line as soon as you can. “I’m sorry this happened to you. Do you want to make some time to talk about it? I’m free this afternoon/tomorrow night/et cetera.” Don’t let them pull you into more than you can take.

LOLA: Finding out there was a term for this exchange—“emotional labor”—helped me out a lot. Suzy tweeted an article that I really dug.

AMY ROSE: I say it as directly as possible if someone is drawing me into a negatory zone that is detrimental to my happiness or my well-being: “I love you and want to support you, but sometimes it feels like negative reinforcement of my own fears/unhappiness to talk so frequently and repeatedly about [X THING] in a way that isn’t cognizant of the idea that they’re unhealthy or hurtful. If you could keep that in mind when we talk, I would appreciate it.” And then, if they don’t, I insert some distance.

MARIE: So my problem (?) is that I usually don’t communicate it and just slowly/slyly put space in between me and them. This is honestly something that I have to deal with daily with certain people.

ARABELLE: I tell them that I love them, but that I can’t bring bad energy into my life right now. It sucks, but I’ve had conversations with my best best friends about needing to hang out and wanting to hang out, and not being each other’s crutches, so we can cut to the chase really quickly now.

MEREDITH: How do you apologize when you’ve overstepped your boundaries w/r/t relying on someone? When a friend totally bails because you’ve been needy, how do you re-approach that friend to talk about what happened and/or try to repair things?

ROSE: I strive to give the benefit of the doubt to everyone. It’s OK if people need space, or if they are busy dealing with their own shit. Sometimes you don’t hear back from someone because they don’t have the energy to be there for you. It’s hard not to take that personally, but I would hazard a guess that most of the time it’s not really about you. Which is really hard to admit! Because oftentimes when things are really bad, it feels like everything is about you, in a way you crave that validation. I’m not sure people who bail really need an apology, unless you’ve actually feel like you’ve been a selfish jerk, which is different from being needy or scary—just the understanding that they are allowed to take their space.

I’d love to explore the idea of acknowledgement versus apology. I was once in a romantic relationship where the entire thing revolved around the person’s constant need to apologize for his shitty behavior. He was constantly fucking up and constantly begging for my forgiveness, which is another way of making everything about him. Even after it ended, he kept apologizing. How does needing to apologize become another tool for focusing the attention on your needs rather than the person whom you’ve hurt? Is there a way to avoid this trap?