These past few days, one phrase has been sitting with me in a way I can’t ignore:

“I got you.”

It’s such a simple sentence. Just three words.
But the older I get, the more I realize—words don’t land the same way they used to.

Back in the day… you know how it is/was. Late teens, early twenties… everything was fast. Loud. Jumpy. We were trying to prove ourselves, trying to belong, trying to stay “in the clique,” trying to be relatable. So, we threw words around like confetti. Big statements with little weight behind them.

But now?

Now I notice words.
I pause.
I listen for the meaning underneath the meaning.

Because in this season of my life, words aren’t just words anymore. They carry history, intention, and sometimes… love.

When a “Stranger” Said It

Last year, I was with a friend I had only recently met—just a few weeks, maybe a couple of months into knowing each other. We were celebrating my son and we needed someone to take a picture of us, and she quickly jumped in and said:

“I got you. I got you. I always got you.”

It was such a small moment, but it felt big.

Because those words coming from someone who didn’t owe me anything—someone still new in my life—felt warm. It felt welcoming. It felt safe.

And I remember smiling, like… wow.
That was really sweet.

When My Husband Said It

Then yesterday… or maybe the day before yesterday… my husband said the same phrase.

We were in the kitchen, and he had just come back from the store with medicine. One of the things he picked up was Tylenol.

Now listen—let me tell you something about me.

First of all, I dont like medicine. period. Even more, if I have to take them, I don’t like the powdery kind of tablets. The ones that start melting in your mouth and you taste the bitterness immediately? Nop! I can survive pain, but I can’t survive that experience.

If it’s not coated, gel, or capsule… I’m not doing it.

So when I saw what he bought, it caught my attention right away. It was the gel-like kind—the soft capsules.

And he looked so proud showing it to me like, “Look what I found!” He wanted me to notice :)

I just started smiling because I knew he had bought those for me. I was not sick. He was. Yet even in the middle of caring for himself, he thought about me. In the future, if my wife needs Tylenol, she will have the kind that she likes.

I just smiled so wide and told him, “Thank you, Bebe.”

Then he said:

“I got you.”

And It Hit Different

It went way beyond Tylenol.

It wasn’t just “I got you” as in “I bought what you like.”

It was “I got you” as in…

• I see you.
• I know you.
• I remember what matters to you.
• I’m thinking ahead for you.
• I’m carrying you in my mind even when I’m handling my own things.
• You’re safe with me.
• I have your back.
• I have always had your back.

And oh! How true was and still is all of that!

In that moment, it was like a door opened in my mind. I started remembering so many other ways he has shown up for me—through years, through seasons, through ideas, through needs I didn’t always have the words to explain.

It wasn’t dramatic.

It was just… deep.

I’m still smiling about it.

Words Have Weight Now

When I was younger, “I got you” was something you could say casually. Something trendy. Something you threw out there just to sound cool, loyal, included.

But now that I’m older, I don’t just hear words—I weigh them.

I don’t throw words around carelessly anymore, and I don’t just swallow them quickly either.

I sit with them.

I ask myself:
What’s the weight of this word?
What does it cost the person to say it and mean it?
What does he/she exactly mean with that word?

And when those words come from people who truly matter… people who truly show up…

Three little words can feel like shelter.

So yes.

These past few days, the words that have meant the most to me are simple, but powerful:

I got you.

Because sometimes love doesn’t come in speeches.

Sometimes love comes in quiet sentences that say:
You’re not alone.
I’m here.
I got you.

And for me… that’s powerful!

Tell me, when did you last experience that kind of meaningful words?