On Friendships
My fingers are slowly starting to unfurl from the fists that they have been clenched in for far too long. The butterflies in my belly are beginning to flutter.
In our final Indigenous education class we started the class by talking about mistakes:
Can you think of a time when you learned from a mistake? What did you say or do? How did you feel?
The mistakes that come to mind are the ones that I didn’t realize were mistakes until years later . . . Now, I apologize / check-in / make amends . . . usually I feel terrible about it for a while.
What advice would you give someone about learning from mistakes?
If it hurts someone else, humbly take responsibility . . .
Mistakes are human, remember your beautiful humanity and proceed accordingly (with compassion and acceptance) . . .
I have a really hard time having compassion for myself when I think about my past mistakes; as a result, I don’t think I really answered the questions in a way that would be helpful because I was too caught up thinking about how often I think about the fact that I wish I could go back and do things differently.
When I think about mistakes, I don’t think about the ones that just affect myself. I don’t think about when I submitted something that ended up being completely wrong, about spelling something wrong or driving to the completely wrong location for a physio appointment and missing the appointment altogether as a result of my lack of attention to detail. When I think about mistakes, I think about the times I let people down — I think about the times I hurt people — I think about the circumstances where I made a decision from a reactive place that I, in retrospect, no longer agree with.
When is a mistake unforgivable? When is it too late to apologize and take accountability for my actions?
I think about some of the friendships that I let end because I decided that a single comment or action made by a former friend was unforgivable — so I cut them out of my life. I stopped making an effort (and so did they). I think about one friend, in particular, who I judged too harshly based on the romantic partner they chose to stay with in spite of it being — what I considered — a toxic relationship. I think about the friend who responded reactively to an instagram story that I made (back when I posted way too often and way too reactively myself) and hurt my feelings. I don’t remember what I replied, or if I even replied at all . . . but I know we haven’t spoken since.
I find myself reflecting on friendship a lot these days. I look around and see folks who are connected with people they’ve known since grade school, folks who hangout with their friends every weekend doing all sorts of things — I don’t have that.
When we were discussing mistakes in class this week I noticed a thought appear in my head, Maybe if I made less mistakes in my friendships in the past, maybe I would have more friends . . . Because if it isn’t that, then what’s wrong with me?
I know, however, that I’m very particular about the people who I choose to surround myself with. I don’t just want friends for friends’ sake. I know, too, that my energy reserves are more limited than the average person . . . but I still think that with the right people maybe that fact wouldn’t matter so much. Maybe it’s just genuinely difficult to find others that value the same things that I do — I have to believe that’s the case, otherwise I’m left feeling like there’s something about me that is just unlikeable.
Where are the folks who happily pass on a Friday night house party to catch up on this week’s episode of Survivor accompanied by homemade burgers? Where are the folks who prefer a slower pace, quiet mornings with tea and early bedtimes after a nice long stretch? Where are the folks who find joy in a cozy coffee shop, delight in a locally made almond croissant, and could spend hours lying flat on a rocky beach listening to the waves while the sun gifts us delicious vitamin d and happiness? Where are the folks who don’t need alcohol to have a nice time, who prefer deep conversations to small talk, who aren’t afraid to share their feelings and be vulnerable and present with the multitudes of feelings that this wild world ignites?
Maybe what’s difficult, too, is finding a friendship with a foundation made of safety, trust, and honesty — a foundation that can withstand hard conversations and unintentional hurt.
I think about a friend who I once considered a best friend who, after me reaching out from a calm and well-meaning place to express how their actions had hurt me, never replied nor has spoken to me since. I think about how relationships can thrive or vanish based on how high (or low) they fall on someone’s priority list.
I deeply believe that being present in the presence of others, ourselves, and our environment is one of life’s greatest gifts. I wonder if my aching stems from the fact that there are people who do not feel the same way, or if perhaps, I ache in response to the spot in which I land on people’s list of priorities.
I wonder how it would feel if I instead considered that some folks aren’t willing, wanting, or capable of showing up for me — of prioritizing me — in the same way that I would for them; that, no matter how much effort or anxiety I dedicate to any given person or relationship I may never be met in the way that I long for. I wonder how it would feel if I accepted that as entirely possible, likely even, and what kind of relief I might feel. What if I practiced letting go?
I am so grateful that my life partner is also my best friend. I am so grateful to share in so many beautiful, vibrant, life-giving moments by his side. I’m so grateful and so utterly fortunate that he is my person to share in all of the above, and more, and everything else. I’m so grateful that we can, and do, show up as our fullest selves, in every colour and shape of our humanity each and every day.
Now that I’m writing this all down, I think that my focus on friendships is a bit misguided — my life is beautifully full. While I continue to chew on the significance of seeking more deep friendships, and how to navigate past mistakes . . . I think I need to practice a little more forgiveness, a lot more deep breathing, and to continue to root myself in acceptance and gratitude.
My fingers are slowly starting to unfurl from the fists that they have been clenched in for far too long. The butterflies in my belly are beginning to flutter.
The semester is over and Japan is right around the corner (three! sleeps!).
I have no clue how much or how little I’ll be able to dedicate to this space while I’m gone.
All of the images in this newsletter I found on Pinterest.
I hope that you are having a wonderful weekend so far. Time! to! go! pack!
These two sentences hit me in the gut! "I deeply believe that being present in the presence of others, ourselves, and our environment is one of life’s greatest gifts. I wonder if my aching stems from the fact that there are people who do not feel the same way, or if perhaps, I ache in response to the spot in which I land on people’s list of priorities." I also struggle with this tension, on the one hand my life is beautifully full of incredible people and love, on the other hand I still feel an ache and an existential loneliness that I don't think will ever go away. Thank you for writing this!