The Art of Friendship
And where I've been going wrong all these years!
Something has been bothering me for a while now. I’m just going to say it.
I’m a TERRIBLE friend.
Seriously, it’s not good. I wasn’t always a terrible friend. I have everything required to be a great friend! I’m fiercely loyal, loving, compassionate, forgiving and non-judgemental. My time-keeping is a shit-show, but other than that, I’m a good catch! So why do I suck at it?
You might think I’m being unfair to myself here, but you’d be wrong. Show me the friends I love most in the world, and I’ll detail the times I’ve been avoidant, held back when I should have leaned in. I’ve missed opportunities for closeness in order to keep myself protected.
One of my best friends once told me I was “shit at hugging”. She said I seemed to find hugs traumatic, which really ruins the hug vibe. It was fair feedback.
The truth is that, in a way, hugs were traumatic for me. In fact, friendship itself had become traumatic for me.
I had friends. Sure. But I never really knew why they were there and always expected their imminent departure.
As a child I wore all my emotions on my sleeve. There was a serious lack of boundaries and my ability to ‘read the room’ matched that of an over-excited Labrador at a funeral. I got bullied at school because I hadn’t yet understood how I might not fit in. I learned the hard way that just because you want to be someone’s friend, doesn’t automatically mean they want to be friends with you.
The trouble with bullying, as many can attest to, is that without adequate intervention, the ‘bully’ can set up home in your psyche. Unless challenged, it can get comfortable, and before you know it, it's rocking back and forth in a familiar chair, having been there for years, casually knitting and recounting tales of the bad old days.
That, my friends, is what happened to me. Although my ‘self’ remained the same, my personality didn’t. Personality is how we show ourselves to the world, and mine became a careful, guarded, shape-shifting people-pleaser. Desperate to avoid rejection, and certain it was always just around the corner.
I could hear the voice in my head; “You’re weird. No one likes you. We don’t want you.” (Assume the voice of Bernard Black for dramatic effect). I accepted that to be true, and tried to hide or change the parts of myself I thought people didn’t like. I was scared of being too much, too big, too forward. I wanted to be unremarkable and safe. My inner child who was full of love, got trapped inside an adult who was afraid to show it.
I became a terrible friend because I never fully trusted in the relationships, so I couldn’t commit myself to them. I always had one foot out the door. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust my friends. They were great. I just didn’t trust that they would always like me. I didn’t trust myself not to screw it up. So I never wanted to get too close, as that way it would hurt less when they left. …What an utterly depressing thing to admit!
Of course, neurosis like that creates a self-fulfilling prophecy. It was easy for people to leave, because I was inconsistent and avoidant. I was never fully there. And “I’ll (never fully) be there for you” is not the theme-tune of long-lasting friendship.
The relationship I’ve been developing with myself over recent years has allowed me to better understand the relationships I have with others. I’d been so afraid of people not liking me, I hadn’t realised that it was me who didn’t like me. And that was what was keeping me from ever trusting anybody else could.
Thankfully, that’s changed. Either the bully stopped talking, or I stopped listening.
I recently met some women through a members club I’d just joined, and the marked difference in my interactions was incredible. I was myself. All of it. I didn’t assume I knew what they were thinking. I didn’t start a mental list of the reasons they wouldn’t like me. I was open to connection, and the result was becoming part of a budding new friendship group with brilliant women who are all different, all multi-faceted, all themselves.
I always thought I hadn’t found my people. But actually they just couldn’t find me. I needed to stop hiding and show up for my friends.
So maybe now I don’t have to be a terrible friend. Maybe I won’t pull away, I’ll stay connected. I’ll be a better friend to others, and definitely a better friend to myself.
The Spin
Real connection requires you to be real - to be honest and brave and willing to be vulnerable
‘People-Pleasing’ is an all too common way to lose sight of your own wants and needs, which is denying yourself parts of ‘you’
To be a good friend to others, you first need to be a good friend to yourself
Adding More Weight
Why Ambivalent Friendships Are Bad for Our Health
Why Mixing Friendship Groups Gives Us the Fear
Confessions of a Recovering ‘People-Pleaser’
The Notion of Romantic Friendship
Without What Made Me ‘Me’, I’d Be A Shadow of Myself
When Social Missteps Become A Source of Amusement
Healing-Oriented Vs. Insight-Oriented Psychotherapy
Book: Daring Greatly, Brené Brown (if you’ve read before, read it again ..and again)
Option to Go Deeper
What things do you fear other people might reject or judge you for?
Many of us hide parts of ourselves that we think might be less palatable to others. It’s helpful to understand what these parts are, and investigate whether they’re actually all that bad after all. It takes all the different parts of ourself to make us whole, and self-acceptance means making space for all of them.
The Wind Down
Read Emma Jane Unsworth’s book, Animals, untethered female debauchery - yes please, all day long!
Get in the spirit with Sarah Jessica Parker’s awkward uptight Christmas vibes in The Family Stone
Love this, beautifully honest and insightful.