Let’s talk about the “Table.” You know the one. It’s that metaphorical place where we all sit down in our relationships, friendships, and jobs. Everyone is supposed to bring something. Some people bring the main course (the money, the big ideas), some bring the decor (the vibes, the aesthetic), and then there are the people who just show up with an empty plate and a “thanks for having me” grin.
I have never been that person.
I’ll be honest with you: I’ve had days where my bank account looked like a desert—just tumbleweeds and a very lonely five-dollar bill. I’ve had “lowest of the low” days where putting on matching socks felt like a Herculean achievement. But even then? I was not a leech. I was not a user.
If I’m coming to the party, I’m bringing something. Even if it’s just the best damn conversation you’ve had all week or a bag of chips I bought with literal couch pennies.
The Art of “Broke-Person Magic”
There is a specific kind of “broke-person magic” that I’ve perfected over the years. You know what I’m talking about. It’s that Tuesday night when you have half an onion, a packet of ramen, and a dream. Most people see a sad pantry; I see a gourmet stir-fry (if you close your eyes and use a lot of hot sauce).
That’s how I approach life. When things get rough, I don’t sit back and wait for someone to hand me a life jacket. I start treading water so hard I practically create a whirlpool.
Tina’s Lesson #1 for Life:
If you can’t bring the wine, bring the energy. If you can’t bring the energy, bring the truth. Just don’t show up empty-handed.
Why I’m Allergic to Being a Burden
I think I’m actually allergic to being a burden. Some people are comfortable leaning entirely on others, and honestly? I envy their relaxation levels. I really do. But for me, the idea of being a “user” makes me break out in hives.
I’ve always felt that if you’re at the table, you should be helping to keep it standing. Maybe I’m not the one paying for the whole dinner, but I’m definitely the one making sure everyone is laughing, keeping the drinks topped off, and probably being the first one to grab a sponge when a glass breaks.
We are the “Value-Added” People of the World
I know I’m not alone in this. Most of us are just out here “making some sh*t happen” on a daily basis.
- It’s the single mom who manages to organize a birthday party with $20 and some construction paper.
- It’s the friend who’s going through a breakup but still shows up to help you move your heavy-as-lead dresser.
We aren’t users. We are contributors. We are the “Value-Added” people of the world.
Stop Feeling Guilty About Having “Enough”
If you’re reading this and you’ve ever felt guilty for not having “enough” to give, stop it right now. Look at your track record. Think about those days when you were at your absolute lowest—the “brokest” you’ve ever been—and you still managed to show up for someone else. You still managed to find a solution. You still made it work.
That’s not being a leech. That’s being a powerhouse.
Bringing the Flavor to the Table
So, here’s to us. We might not always have the fancy champagne, but we always bring the flavor. And frankly, the table is a lot more interesting because we’re sitting at it.
This post reminds me of a group discussion. One person who I knew as living on the edge, low income etc. He shared that generosity is one of his key gifts.
I was taken aback because it did not fit my sense of what generosity looks like. Such as making donations to noble charities for example.
As he elaborated on his initial statement he described how he would show up when someone needed help.
I hadn’t put real value on giving of one’s time as an act of generosity. On reflection I concluded that he had a stronger gift of generosity than a philanthropist. Giving of one’s time compared to writing a cheque on one’s flush bank account.
This is such a powerful, honest, and relatable piece.
The “table” metaphor is brilliantly used—it’s simple, vivid, and hits straight to the heart. What really stands out is the authenticity in your voice, especially the idea that contribution isn’t always about money, but about effort, energy, and intention. That “broke-person magic” line? Absolutely gold—both humorous and deeply real.