So, as ever, relationships and why we behave the way we do are at the forefront of my mind. It seems like I keep pondering the inner workings of friendship this month, and how people become so close, yet so easily lose each other.
Earlier this week, I saw a dear friend's Facebook post about a friend who was taken away too soon. My heart went, and still goes out to her. I haven't lost a close friend in this way. Mostly I've lost friends due to foolishness--sometimes mutual, sometimes unilateral. Always painful.
It's amazing how attached we become to our friends. We often feel closer to them than some of our relatives. Writer Edna Buchanan said it best: Friends are the family we choose for ourselves.
I started to think about why that is. Why do we form such strong bonds with people outside of our family unit? I am sure there is a long list of possible reasons. We both love "Doctor Who." We grew up in the Midwest with dysfunctional parents. We work in the same field. We both like to ride bicycles. We both dislike the same things.
These are the obvious links, but they aren't the reason.
I think at the core of these strong bonds is the sense of belonging and acceptance we feel within friendship, and the fact that someone who is not obligated in a familial way extended that sense of belonging and acceptance. What could be a higher compliment? What else could make us feel a little more comfortable accepting ourselves?
When we are chosen to become someone's friend, it's because of the person we are whenever we are with that person. We become inherently defined by the people who call us "friend." I think that's at least part of the reason our adolescent years can be so painful. When we find ourselves outside of the well-thought-of clicques, we can often find ourselves feeling like we're on the fringes, or that we do not belong anywhere. And in those painful moments, how can we help but ask the question: what does that say about me?
In reaching adulthood, we often believe that we have gotten passed all of that. We don't believe we will still find ourselves in, or surrounded by cliques, and we believe our friendship bonds are so strong that only a major falling out could destroy them.
We start to allow ourselves a sense of comfort with our friends, because we believe that we know each other so well, and we care for and believe in each other maturely and strongly enough that we can get passed or through most anything. We believe we have found friends with whom we can truly be ourselves, and we don't have to apologize for it.
I think that is why losing friendships in adulthood can be even more painful than losing friendship any other time. Our sense of self, and our feeling of worth are frequently dependent on what others think of us, no matter how much we try to make the mantras of self-love work for us. It may well be that some of us are naturally more gregarious than others, but even those of us who tend to find ourselves more comfortable on our own at times, need to feel the sense of belonging and acceptance afforded to us through friendship.
When a friendship falls apart, we often fall apart right along with it. The loss forces us to look at ourselves, and our friends, in an unflattering light. Because we allow ourselves to feel defined by those who choose us as friends, when they suddenly "un-choose" us, we feel our sense of who we are to ourselves slide out from under us too. That seed of self-doubt puts us on the defensive in all of our other relationships as well, and can even prompt us to withdraw as a means of self-protection. If we don't put ourselves "out there," we limit the opportunities to be hurt.
I know we have all been on the receiving end of friendship loss, but I think we don't realize that we not only hurt for the person who has left our lives, but for the piece of who we believed ourselves to be because that person chose us to be their friend. We question our worth. We become paranoid about being ourselves around others. We redefine ourselves based on the loss. We grieve and try to start over without that person in our lives--often trying to shrug off the pain and pretend that we are somehow better off.
Are we? I don't know. In the moment that someone decides we are only worthy of being emotionally torn down, we have to make a choice between believing ourselves deserving of that deconstruction, or believing that the parts of that person with which we so strongly connected were false or altered. I also don't have an answer for that. Perhaps every instance is different, and therefore so is the result.
I do know the pain. I know that it is like the pain of every deep loss I have experienced in my life. It has a thousand triggers--a song, a fragrance, a favorite meal, a silly moment remembered. It is like the pain of saying goodbye to a family member, a dream or a "might have been." It flares like a bum ankle in damp weather.
The pain makes you wonder if it's worth it to ever let someone that close again. After all, if it is so easy for someone to go from believing better of you than you do yourself to doubting you even more, how can you ever trust yourself or anyone else?
At the end of the day, I suppose all any of us can do is hope the risks we take in friendship will lead us to people who really do accept us, at both our best and worst, and that we will offer the same in return.
No comments:
Post a Comment