The older I get the more friends I’ve lost.
Or would it be more accurate to say that in the first three years of my twenties I had more friends than I did in my entire life. Then I got married. Then I had a baby. Both, doing wonders to my voluminous friends frequenting my life.
The way people had always made it seem was that people were supposed to disappear from your life. That ninety-nine percent of friendships were just ‘seasonal’. & maybe that’s true. But the past year I’ve been using this as my reasoning for why I don’t really have any close friends. It isn’t as though it had bugged me or anything, as I’ve always been the loner at the coffee shop type, curled over my notebook or a good book. & honestly, growing up my parents didn’t hang out with anyone really all too regularly. Once in a while, but nothing all too regular.
My mother was never really the type to confide in other women. & it’s not like she had ever given anyone the cold shoulder. She actually had quite a bit of people who absolutely adored her. But her friend was my dad. He was her best friend & her only frequenting friend, the only one who was invited into her joy & pain. In some ways I think she had that right, & in some ways, maybe it was a little flawed.
The past year, I’ve had three real friends. God/Jesus/Holy Spirit, my writing, & my husband. In that order. I’ve realized as things happen, he tends to read my blogs & find out where my head is at. It isn’t abnormal for him to ask me about something I wrote in my blog & respond to me with, “you had never said anything”.
So I’ve been relying more on going through life talking things out through my writing rather than talking to my husband, or others for that matter.
& it matters. Even though you may not see it yet, it matters. So let me show you how.
I consider myself a very awkward person. But I know I’m not the only one who thinks this way, because my husband tells me how awkward I am often. Its the truth, though.
Because I have gotten so complacent with deciding for myself now that I’m married & have kids that no one wants to be my friend that I have become more inverted than ever before. Talking to people stresses me out. Thinking about having people over makes me nervous. Silence with people makes me uncomfortable.
I’ve let people walk out of my life & haven’t invited anyone else in.
That’s a problem, love.
& I hadn’t realized what a big no no this was until I started allowing people who have been knocking on the door, trying to be good friends to me, in the door. It wasn’t until this point where I’ve started reaching out to others & letting them actually come inside my heart (not just make small talk) that I see how much I need people & they need me.
That is such a scary thing to admit when you’ve been burnt a couple times.
But its the truth. We were created for community, & just like most things, unless you’re living it out, you are bound to be awkward at it.
“I just love you you’re awesome… if people don’t tell you that they’re losers.”
I talk a million miles a second. Seriously. Someone should record me because I’m sure I’m breaking records. But the reason I originally caught myself talking so fast was because I felt like nobody wanted to listen to me. Specifically if I said too much, nobody would want to listen. So if I squeezed it all in super speedily, I could get out what I was trying to say & hopefully not make their eyes glaze over.
& the other day, as a newer friend of mine sat on my couch, listening to me talk a million miles a minute with so much excitement, she asked me if I was on crack. Then she told me that she just loves me, & that her sister asked her what I was like, & she had replied that I was the person you wanted to be around.
Then today while we were texting, she said, “I just love you you’re awesome…if people don’t tell you that they’re losers.” & honestly, that was healing.
People like her, who can be completely honest with you & speak kindness to you. Those are the kind of people you need. Those are the kind of people we need to be.