The Jewels of Friendship
We all have them. Those warm summer nights where we suddenly realize that in between cookouts, rooftops and beach activities we still find ourselves feeling extremely lonely. I am no psychologist so my theory for why this happens is completely based on personal experience and some interesting observations over the past few weeks. It’s possible that because we’re more likely to get social in the summer, we also are more exposed to relationships that are not as solid as we wish they were. And maybe that’s OK.
It seems like the older we get the harder it gets to build real relationships. In the past few weeks, I’ve been to social event after social event, meeting new, interesting people and hanging with some usuals whose company I really cherish. One particular night, it dawned on me how little we really know about each other. I paused and looked around and one by one the masks folks wear to hide their struggles suddenly became apparent. The workaholics, the fake introverts, the fake extroverts, the non-committers, the kids who are too cool for school… the list goes on. Then, just as I was ready to put myself on a pedestal for being above it all, there it was: my own mask feeling as heavy as the the emotions it once helped me camouflage.
See, the thing about friendships is that they are usually born from misery disguised as turn up. Think about it. How many of your “friendships” were born out of sex, drugs and trap music? Don’t get me wrong, those nights make the best stories, they’re not always a symptom of sadness and they definitely help us build character. If the morning after you remember what happened and those memories bring you joy, congrats! You’ve unlocked the meaning of partying for the pure purpose of celebrating. You’re definitely winning. But if you’re anything like me you’ve probably spent way too much money, effort and cute outfits pretending to be the life of the party and secretly hoping it’d deflect from the turmoil in your soul. Am I close?
We go through life trying to hide our imperfections. We think that if we let others see how much we’re struggling to love ourselves then nobody will ever love us. We hit up a bar, meet up with other “broken” humans and drink and smoke our troubles away without even acknowledging they exist to begin with. We hope that for at least that one night someone can put together the pieces of our broken puzzle. And as life goes, it turns out the freaking puzzle is missing several pieces…but you already knew that. In those moments, we are attracted to others like us, people who are medicating their pain. Whether it’s failure, abuse, break-ups or trauma, we feel like our new so called friends “get it” even if we haven’t actually shared with them why we all have such an urge to numb ourselves.
It takes a lot of courage to be a hot mess in public. I know it seems effortless but showing off your emotional defects takes a lot of work. We go through the world suffering from acute loneliness yet we’ll do whatever it takes to keep real human connection as far as we can. We post everything we’re doing on social media but struggle to turn to the person next to us and tell them one thing we’re really feeling. We’re eager to broadcast whatever we can disguise as perfect but try to sweep under a rug the flaws we think make us unworthy.
Eventually, the wild parties and [enter your own destructive behavior here] just don’t cut it anymore. They are not the emotional escape they promised to be. You find yourself craving authenticity much more than your drug of your choice. And when you finally take off that mask and face the truth, slowly but surely you start to heal. You’ll soon notice a shift in your relationships. There are those who welcome the opportunity to finally be there for you and those who, to no fault of their own, will mourn the loss of their turn up buddy more than anything else. I remember when a good friend of mine asked me if I could go back to the 2010 version of myself. We were at a party and she wanted to make the most out of it. She knew that the old me would have been way too lit by then but I don’t think she ever understood why. In her defense I never really told her.
It is those friends who ride the waves who become the real gems in your life. Those who understand how much it took for you to say: friend, I’m struggling. It’s those who are not scared of your tears who will also not crumble when you hit them with the truth about how you feel. Those real friends will bet on your ability to crawl out of your mess time and time again. They will show up when you need them and give you space when you don’t. They’ll somehow give you tough love and they’ll be gentle with your heart all at the same time. They are the most precious gift anyone can receive. If you’re lucky you’ll have a handful of those in your lifetime and if you’re luckier you may even fall in love with one of them.
For those friends who can’t show up for you in that way, keep in mind that their journey included connecting with your pain. It is very possible that they can’t yet give you what they haven’t found themselves. Be kind to those whose life is a mascarade for them it is the kingdom of shame. Be nice to yourself when you realize that in order to choose you, you had to not choose them.
Real friends are like jewels. They’re the most valuable when they’re hard to find and even harder to polish. They’re full of symbolism and often underestimated. They tend to grow in meaning the longer you have them. They’re rare. They’re hard to find and easy to lose. They are the perfect detail to adorn a journey of growth.
The next time you’re at a cookout, rooftop, beach activity or any other social event, take a moment to look around and try to find the gems behind the masks. Listen for whether your friends talk about what they feel rather than what they do or what they have. Ask questions. Try not to judge. Show some empathy. Share your own story. And maybe one day the medicating will stop and nourishment will begin. Those are the summer nights you will want to remember.
Dedicated to my friend Rubi whose warmth, love and compassion inspired this post.
