Are you there, Mentor? It’s me, Talie.


(Oh man, this is going to get uncomfortable. I can already feel it. Oh, well! Here it goes anyway!)

I’m doing a Bible study right now where in addition to daily “homework” there’s a weekly meeting and video talk by the author of the study. A few weeks ago she mentioned quite randomly that her generation (she’s older) needed to be mentoring my generation, that my generation was “crying out” for mentorship. I immediately thought, “No I’m not,” and brushed the comment aside. Or, rather, I tried to.

Then an article was released about our church, North Point, being the largest in America. In it, our pastor said that his focus right now is in pouring into and raising up the next generation of leaders for the church and specifically cited 30-somethings as that upcoming group. I think it struck me because I’ve always thought of 20-somethings as the upcoming group, so it was a bit shocking to me. After I read it, I thought to myself, “Well, there’s that mentor thing again.” And it began to weigh on my heart. Maybe I need a mentor? Then I remembered — Wait, haven’t I been here before??

In my 20s I decided to see a counselor. It seemed like I was the only person not in therapy, and since I was wrestling with quarter-life-crisis stuff, I thought that talking it through with a professional empathizer would solve my problems. I sought out a highly-recommended woman and started seeing her. It was…uncomfortable. There was nothing wrong with her per se — she was educated and kind and eager and reserved and super-Christian and syrupy sweet and old. (And expensive, let’s not forget that.) We had NOTHING in common past our mousy brown hair, and each week I felt increasingly awkward. I would go in, sit down and…well, I’d just start talking. About God knows what. It probably qualified more so as “babbling” than “talking” now that I’m thinking back on it. I just wanted to fill the uncomfortable silence with something other than her motherly smile. She was not a mentor for me of any sorts, and her advice was (truthfully and transparently) infuriating. There was never a suggestion made that I hadn’t already thought of myself and rejected — that was why I was there for goodness sake, because I was at the end of my rope, LADY! She clearly didn’t live in my world, and as well-intentioned as she was, I wasn’t benefiting from seeing her. So I just stopped going one week. And guess what? Nothing happened. Absolutely NOTHING. I had been building a “relationship” with this person for months; she apparently “cared” about me and all. But when I unexpectedly and unexplainedly vanished without a trace from her life, she didn’t even bother to call me. Or email me. Or send me a note. Nothing. As far as she knows to this day I could’ve been kidnapped by rodeo clowns and forced to live among them as one of them for the past decade. (I can see her syrupy-sweet, always-positive reaction now: “Aw! Look! She finally found her purpose in life! And she looks so happy doing it!” {BTW, Lady, the clown smile is makeup — not real}

Looking back, deep down I knew that I needed a mentor, not a counselor. In fact, after my failure with the counselor, I unintentionally began seeking out sort-of mentors in my life, mostly in the form of bosses. However, one-by-one, they all ended up being, well, crazy. (In many cases, literally crazy. But those are stories for another time.) I was drawn to creative, entrepreneurial women and deep-down I desperately wanted one of them to have a great, positive impact on my life. I wanted to be 40-something and sitting on a big stage somewhere being interviewed on how I had achieved so much success in life, citing my Great Influencer, who would inevitably be sitting in the front row all teary-eyed. Fat chance. Eventually I gave up on finding The One, found a career that suited me well enough, began growing my tiny, artsy business and started a family of my own. Time went by as it always seems to do, and now, here nearly a decade later, I find myself at a crossroads again — and in need of help again.

This time around, I know that I don’t need a professional to sit across from me on a couch with a notepad in-hand; nor do I need someone looking to use and abuse me for their own career goals. You see, in my 20s I didn’t know any better. In my 30s, though, I’ve learned a bit along the way. I’ve learned that I really need a true mentor in my life.  Right now, in this very moment and vivisection of my life, I need a female in my life who gets me. (Really I need Me in Twenty Years to mentor Me Today, but until time travel becomes possible, I’ll continue to seek out someone similar to me.) I’m going to be utterly and honestly transparent here (as arrogant and selfish as it sounds) and admit that I need someone to pour into me. I’m at a fork in the road of life again — just like I was back then in my 20s seeking out counsel and influence — but this time I can’t go forward in confusion. I don’t want to do this without someone to talk it through with. I want someone to guide me, to counsel me, to listen to me and help me. And, if we’re honest with ourselves, if we listen to that deep-down voice inside of us, isn’t that a basic desire in all of us? To be poured into, to have a hand extended to us, to find connection with another person?

Are you there, Mentor? It’s me, Talie.

So, future soulmate (if you really are out there), here’s what I’m thinking:

You’re in your late 30s or 40s.(I think?) You’re happily married and have kids. You’re a Christian, but you and your faith are not so sweet-n-shiny that I can’t be real with you. Maybe you live close to me in metro-Atlanta, or maybe we just Facetime. (I’m flexible if you are.) You’re not anti-social media; you text; you know the function of “#” online and maybe use it every once in a while; your email address doesn’t end or still. You know what blogging is and probably follow at least a few. (Basically you’re in touch with the modern, current world.) You are or have been a SAHM and self-employed. (Could you be an artist or a writer or and entrepreneur, please? That’d be great.) You are creatively-minded, whatever form that takes in your world. You have (at least most of) your life together, enough so that you can impart some wisdom/guidance/opinions to me in a few areas including (but not limited to): faith, marriage, motherhood, business, relationships, finances, health, general awesomeness. You are willing to listen without judgement but have an earnest desire to help me sort this life out and to find direction. Oh, and you must love dogs. Mostly because I don’t understand how people don’t love dogs. They’re the most wonderful creatures on Earth. That’s why God made them (wo)man’s best friend, duh.

Okay, folks. That’s it. I’m putting myself out there. So, dear friends and readers, do you know someone that might be a good fit for me? Someone who’s looking to impart wisdom and share a cup of coffee every so often? ;) If so, help me take a chance. Give them my email (, and maybe, just maybe, something good can come of this awkward post. :)

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