I’m about to admit something to you that I know you’ve done too. The question is, are you willing to admit that you do it?
Every once in a while, when I get into an elevator and hear someone running down the hall trying to get into it, I will pretend to press the button to open the doors. In reality, I fake it. I’m just pretending while making a face at the person, staring them right in the eyes with a “I’m sorry” look.
Sometimes I just want to give the illusion that I’m helping, when the truth is, I don’t want to help.
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Does this make me a bad person?
The same goes with your friend group and your network. Sometimes people just want to give the illusion that they’re really there to help you. In reality, they may be shit posers who either have no ability to help or don’t give a fuck, and would rather pretend to push the button while they are staring you right in the eyes.
The older I get, the more I realize how many people in life are fake elevator button pushers. They say things like, “Let me know how I can help,” or “I’ve got your back,” but the second you actually need something, you start hearing silence louder than words. Suddenly, they’re too busy, too distracted, too overwhelmed, or they disappear completely while still somehow maintaining the performance of being supportive.
They want the social credit of looking helpful without any of the inconvenience that comes with actually helping another human being.
What makes this even more dangerous professionally is that a lot of people mistake proximity for support. Just because someone is around you all the time does not mean they are willing to hold the elevator open when it matters. Some people only like you when your goals are hypothetical, when your dreams are safe, and when your ambition doesn’t require anything from them emotionally, mentally, or financially. The second your momentum starts forcing them to either step up or reveal themselves, you find out very quickly who was actually pressing the button and who was just moving their finger around on the wall pretending.
The people you want around you in life are the ones who jam their entire arm between the elevator doors and yell for you to hurry the hell up while everyone else inside gets annoyed. Those are your people. Those are the people who will make calls for you, recommend you behind closed doors, tell you the truth when you are spiraling, help you move, help you network, help you think bigger, and still answer the phone when your life feels like it is catching fire.
Those people are rare, and if you find them, you protect those relationships with everything you have.
So maybe the real question is not whether you have fake elevator button pushers in your life. You definitely do. The bigger question is whether you are becoming one yourself. Because at some point, every single one of us gets the choice between convenience and character, and most of those choices happen in tiny moments nobody else notices, while someone is running full speed toward a closing door, hoping you actually meant it when you said you would help.
You also start to realize that your life changes dramatically when you stop chasing quantity and start chasing quality in your relationships.
A small circle of real button pushers will outperform a giant network of performative acquaintances every single time. Real supporters create momentum. They introduce you to opportunities without jealousy. They advocate for you in rooms you are not standing in. They challenge your excuses instead of feeding them. They remind you who the hell you are when your confidence temporarily leaves the building. Being surrounded by people like that changes the trajectory of your life more than almost anything else.
The hard part is that finding those people usually requires disappointment first. You have to go through enough fake button pushers to recognize what real support actually looks like. Over time, you stop being impressed by loud encouragement and start paying attention to consistent action. You notice who checks in without needing something. You notice who follows through. You notice who celebrates your wins without making it weird. You notice who actually stops what they are doing to hold the damn elevator open while you are sprinting through the hallway trying to catch up in life.
In closing, the next time you’re in an elevator and the doors are closing, you’ll think twice about pretending to hit that open button.