A couple of weeks ago at church, the speaker talked about how important it is to periodically ask the people around you what you need to change, and encouraged us all to follow that advice. He said we should ask two friends, people who know and love us, love the word of God, and we aren't related to. I agreed: this sounded like good advice. So I started thinking. Who should I ask?
The truth is that I came up with no one. I thought and thought and wondered, who fit all that criteria? The "not related to" part scratched Regan and Mom off the list... my obvious first choices.
It seems a little silly, but the whole thing sent me into a two-day crisis over my relationships, as I pondered the fact that I felt like no one really knew me. REALLY knew me. Was I so bad at relationships? I feel like I am a fairly transparent person. Did I just not let people in? I couldn't stop listening to a new favorite song by Don Chaffer, which probably didn't help. "And I don't see why I'm so lonely, but I've got a funny feeling that it's my fault. I've tried so hard, just to rise above it," he empathized with me.
I forgot about it with my busy week, but then the following week a friend who works at the church asked what I thought of the message. I unloaded on him. I started by telling him how I felt like the message was sort of incomplete, just to throw out there that people need to be asking their friends what they should change without any practical steps of how to go about that. But what about all that criteria? What about for all those people like me who didn't have friends who fit into that box? There wasn't a checklist of who I should or shouldn't ask. Who really knows me anyway? Am I that bad at relationships? The conversation got more personal as it went on.
And I received good counsel in return: not everyone was going to know every side of me. Maybe the challenge should have been put, ask two people in each area of my life who know me, love God, and aren't related to me.
It's OK that my mom-friends only know me as I relate to my kids. It's OK that some of my other friends never know that I feel like I spend half the time screaming at my children, the other half ignoring them, and end the day in tears. It's OK that my colleagues at work don't know that I have a horrible facebook addiction and a messy house. BUT, they still know valuable things about me, and may still have valuable insight into what I'm doing and how I'm doing it. So that shouldn't stop me from asking.
I was relieved to get over that hurdle. But was still left with another burning question: Why was I so lonely? I DO have a funny feeling that it's my fault. What is stopping me from pursuing my friends, so I can feel like any one of them really knows me well? I just don't know exactly, and none of my excuses seem like a really good reason. I often follow this cyclical pattern:
I don't want to call my friends with kids who are sitting at home--probably just as lonely as I am--because I am sick and tired of kids and I don't want them to come over with MORE kids and try to have a conversation above the noise and interruptions. The times we get away for a girl's night every couple months aren't enough to get past the small and dirty diaper talk.
So I call my old friends without kids, with whom I am comfortable and at ease. But people without kids have lives, plans. Who else could I call? Hanging out with new friends sounds like work. I am just so tired.
Bored, I "reach out" to my facebook "friends", with clever status updates or ridiculously cute pictures of my children. But every person who likes a picture and comments on a post isn't really my friend.... I wouldn't know their voice if they called me on the phone and didn't identify themselves. Oh, I don't like talking on the phone anyway.
Am I being too picky, to think that now that I am a mother, I might get to have some time with my friends away from my kids? To think that my friends might call ME sometime, instead of feeling like I am chasing them? We all functioned once without facebook, and I think without these artificial connections we were happier. But what would I do without at least SOME sort of connection throughout the day?
I was hesitant to broach this topic, wondering if there would be anyone who feels like they are closer to me than I am portraying. And that could be true, I tend to underestimate the depth of relationships sometimes. Many of you I truly do not know well at all. Maybe some of my closer friends will read this, maybe a complete stranger. But my guess is that a lot of you--especially you moms--will be nodding your heads in agreement.
There is much value in the casual friendships, in the acquaintances, but I can't help but feel I am missing something. So I ask you, "friends": Have you found a way to be a parent, a true friend, a whole person who is.... not lonely? I guess I haven't.
Boy oh boy oh boy! I know exactly what you mean and how it feels. I used to be that same way. Funny thing is that it wasn't until I finally got real comfortable with me that I quit feel lonely. For me that means that now that I'm in the middle of nowhere with very few people around I'm not lonely any more. When I lived in towns I almost always felt lonely and inadequate. I never felt like I totally belonged with the "moms" cause I screamed and cried and wasn't perfect. I totally loved(still do) my kids but thought I never quite measured up to other moms. My non mom friends were busy with a whole other life from mine. Married friends were busy with their families and unmarrieds were busy looking or just living a life I didn't want -- bars, get togethers with other single people -
ReplyDeleteAnyway -- I still don't think anyone totally knows me. Like you say -- different people know different parts - and it's ok.
I think sometimes that we get pushed into the idea that we need to look at life and ourselves and our relationships deeper than what is really needed or maybe even healthy. Of course we perfectionists sometimes do that to ourselves -- someone suggests we ask others what we need to change and we think it to death instead of just doing it.
Try to take it easy on yourself and relax and just enjoy your life. Try to not to think about it too much. Is your's a happy loving home? If so then things must be working just fine and it doesn't matter what the rest of the world says, expects or tells you.
I really admire your honesty, Im not sure I could put myself out there in the same way you can, but that doesn't mean that I don't feel the exact same way. I go through phases where I obsess over Facebook because i've literally been stuck in the house for over a week and I need human contact. I haven't admitted to myself that online connections are artificial because a.) im not really ready for that and b.) I have moved twice now from a large network of friends that I love and care about and I am really passionate about staying connected with them, through any venue.
ReplyDeleteMy husband told me the other day that he wants to go out next Sunday with friends and I just felt defeated. The first thing I blurted out was, "why am I not invited?!". Brett just looked at me and was like, "It's just a chance for me to spend some one on one time with friends". I totally get it, but in that moment I realized that not only do I have no friends, but I've been keeping Brett away from his!
I obviously have no good advice, haha, but wanted to let you know that I relate to your post and it was a good morning read. Why is making friends and growing friendships so hard? It's like you said you are always playing a different role depending on who you're with and at the end of the day you just want to be honest and relaxed and DEFINITELY dont want to run the risk of waking your children. I know, I know it all too well.
ps: i liked last nights post (from 3 months ago) too :)
I can really relate to this. I have such a hard time delving into relationships. The Facebook scenario rings true for me. I think what bugs me the most is that in real-life friendships I feel like I always have to be the one to reach out. For once I just want someone to do the planning and inviting. I know that everyone else is having the same problem so I'm just going to push through and keep inviting people to do stuff.
ReplyDeleteAlso I heartily agree, playdates are the worst. By the end of them I am ready to literally push my friends and their children out of my door.
Blogger ate my comment too! Here's my second try: I think you are absolutely right on this. Playdates are fun, but there's not chance to really talk about anything that matters. Throw in work schedules and child care and it's tough to get away on a regular basis with friends, let alone grow close to them. In my experience, the closest friends I have, I've grown close to through regular, frequent time together. It's pretty tough to manage that in the phase of life we're in. However, I'm not sure I can survive until whenever it is that I'll have the time to spend on friendships.
ReplyDeleteI panicked a little too, at the sermon...I was thinking...I don't really want to bare my secrets to people I see on a regular basis! And I really, really am not good at accepting criticism, even if it's constructive. I get very defensive (ask Cory!).
I could go on and on, but maybe we should somehow meet up? :) Lunch after church sometime? :) Or we could have a playdate where the kids are outside in the yard and we're inside (where we can't hear them).