I am pushing the cart in the juice aisle of the grocery store, feeling like a damn clown, thinking about the call I just had with my mom. She isn't even here and she’s already talking about leaving. I grab the last missing ingredient, holding up the tears forming in my eyes. I was so excited of receiving them for our annual Christmas dinner. Now, walking back with enough food to cook that ridiculous five-course menu I had thought about for weeks, I am questioning why I’m putting so much effort into this relationship.
It’s not the first time I’ve felt this way, either. One time, she asked me what I wanted for Christmas and when I replied that I wanted to go dinner with her, mother/daughter- she laughed uncomfortably and told me she would have to "think about it". She never brought it back. It made me feel so small, like the intimate connection I was craving wasn’t even worth her time.
Even though I know that she loves me and that she just has such a hard time being open and vulnerable -always feeling like she is in a hurry to cut short our encounters has scarred me deeper than I would like to admit. This sinking, hollow feeling of not being enough, seems to be crawling back every time I go all in.
During my round the world, I realized that lots of my so-called friends were just in my life for the ride, as long as no efforts at all were needed from their side. It was Christmas, when it hit me. I was alone in a dirty homestay in the heart of the rainy village of Hue, Vietnam, watching the reels of all my friends back home going to their Christmas’ parties. I missed them, of course, but the reason the rain was now coming out of my eyes was that I realized almost none of them had reached out to me, since I had left the country.
Three of my oldest friends aside, almost all of my interractions online were with random followers or because I reached out to my friends back home. Four specific friends I use to always hangout with never even wrote once to ask how I was doing. The few times we ended up talking on the phone were because I asked for it. It hurt me to realize that I was more invested in my friendship with them that they were, but my incredible travel experience made me forget about it and focus on my real friends that were actually reaching out. I passed the following 4 months roaming around the world, learning that even finite encounters are worth investing time in. The more my trip drew to an end, the more I got excited about coming back home to see all of my friends (including them). A day after I landed, I reached out to see if they could still help me move to my new flat a few weeks down and they all gave different excuses for why they wouldn’t be available. At first I felt incredibly sad that they couldn’t make themselves free, knowing months in advance the day I was coming back. Then, I felt selfish for thinking they should go out of their routine and make space for me, just because I needed help at a specifc time. But in the end, I realized that the friends I want are the ones who would be as excited as me to hangout after so much time. I want friends that reach out as much as I do. Friends that show me their time is worth investing in what we have. And friends that plan things, so it’s not always me pulling the weight of the friendship.
I ended-up seeing them, a few weeks after I came back. And then a few other times after, because I planned parties and invited them over. They never reached out themselves to invite me anywhere. At some point, I did told them that I missed them and felt it was a single-sided friendship. They just said they were always like that. They just don’t plan things or think about reaching out. So, I wonder: what happens if I stop? If I don’t send the first text? If I don’t make the plans? If I let the silence stretch, unanswered? I’ll tell you what happen: nothing. I haven’t seen them in over two years now. I mean, intentionally, at least. We have crossed paths in some parties or events in the city, but we never hangout again, the five of us, like we used to. And that’s okay. They showed me how little they cared about my friendship and I finally listened. Now, I invest my time only in people that match my energy and I am so so much more happy. I feel loved by all my friends and I really feel like they want to hangout and spend time with me. I plan one thing, they plan the next- it’s positive and exiting.
It’s not easy, though, to let go of the urge to want to feel loved by people that you love. I crossed path with one of those guys at a skateboarding festival, in August.
“I miss you, we should do something soon!”
I guess that’s as far as it can go for a reach-out from his part. I take the bite.
“I miss you too, but just reach out. Send me your availability and we can go for drinks or dinner!”
“I will”, he says. But I know damn well he won’t. To my surprise, though, he reaches out two days later. We plan to meet up at a restaurant the next Thursday.
I am sitting at the table, swallowing the last sip of the glass of wine I ordered earlier. It’s now 45 minutes passed our initial meeting time, and I feel stupid to have hoped this would be different. I'm about to pay my bill when he finally shows up. I smile, swallow my disappointment. I let it go for tonight, but I know deep in my soul that this friendship is now over. But then, the next night, I overhear him at a bar, casually telling a friend how he had stayed at a work party the day before -the reason he was late to our dinner. The disrespect. He never realizes I am standing right behind him, feeling a little bit more broken by every word he speaks. Why do I care so much? He obviously doesn’t deserve an once more of my time. Still, as our other friend call my name, I sit next to them and act like nothing ever happened.
I walk back home later, feeling empty and somewhat distressed at the possibility that maybe I am not a good friend. Is it the reason why he doesn’t care about our friendship? What about one of my girl friend who I realized, last week, invited girls to her birthday while telling me that she is depressed and can’t hangout with anyone? Did I do something bad to her? When I ask my current friends, the ones that wants to hangout, the ones that reaches out- they tell me no. They don’t get it, I’m a good friend. I go out of my way to make the people I love feel special. I organize insane parties, with contests and prizes. I organize surprise events, scavenger hunts, cottage weekends for their birthdays. I support them in their passions, listen to them when they need to talk. I am a good friend.
But every time those things happen -from my mom who wants to go home before she even arrives, to people I love thinking my time isn't worth theirs- I disconnect a little bit more from the world. My use-to-be passion of organizing event for my friends, slowly fades with every party I invest time in, just to realize how easy it is for people to flake. I retreat, focus on solo activities, on taking classes, on reading books. Because going solo is a great way to make sure you guard your heart, i guess. It’s also a great way to invest energy in yourself instead of in people that do not value your time.
Writing has always been my favourite tool for self-reflection and with this post I do realize that I am slowly isolating myself. I’ve been hurt and I’m scared of it happening again. I am scared of putting efforts in even one more unbalanced connection. There’s a part of me that wants to keep retreating, building walls around my heart to protect myself from the possibility of disappointment. But guys, I ain’t a fucking martyr. I refuse to let that fear dictate my life. The friends I have now are incredible—they show up for me, they make me feel valued and I trust them with all my heart. I’ve learned from my past mistakes and while I may have chosen the wrong people before, I’ve surrounded myself with friends who truly care now. I’m not going to let fear cause me to lose them. Instead, I’ll keep remembering that the love I give is always worth it. I’m not alone. And I won’t let myself become.
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