With crisp-white crew socks awkwardly sticking out of my converse and a poorly fitted tartan skirt, I marched into my first day of middle school. Now, don’t think that outfit was by choice. It was the uniform allocated by the new Catholic school I was attending.
I was a “big girl.” I was going to middle school, knowing only one other person from my fifth-grade class. So with the one ounce of confidence I thought I had and a homely looking outfit that I was convinced emulated sophistication, I strutted through the blacktop awaiting my seemingly inevitable popularity.
However, I was met with pure dread as the lunch hour approached and the only person I knew had divulged that she was buying lunch, leaving me to fend for myself with only a brown sack, a PB & J, and the now dwindling confidence. Oh, the horror!
My opinion: there is nothing more traumatizing for an 11-year old than being forced to sit alone in a lunchroom, lined with tables of judgmental, hormonal pre-teens.
“OMG people will think I have no friends,” I thought. “My reputation is going to be ruined forever. I cannot sit alone, I just cannot!” At that moment, there was nothing more important to me than be-friending the cool girls. You know, the ones with the aggressively lined waterline (remember when that was a thing) and flat-ironed hair.
So with whatever pride I now had left and fear of rejection creeping in, I searched the room for the least intimidating set of girls I could find. Once I found my targets I charged towards them before I could think about the situation any longer. And with a deep breath, I asked, “Can I sit here?”
Barely looking up to acknowledge my question, they replied with a meek “yes.” And, although I did not speak to them for the remainder of lunch as I inhaled my pre-packed snacks, my mission was accomplished: I did not look like a loner.
Now fast forward almost ten years later, as I am about to graduate college, I realize how making friends and keeping friends changes over the years. And, there is nothing I love more than a day all to myself. Frankly, I love being a loner and here is why.
As a middle schooler, my focus was on the number of friends I had and not the quality of those friends. I just wanted to be “popular,” whatever that means. So, I accumulated a number of friends here and there, picking many of them for superficial reasons. I can confidently say that maybe two of those friends have remained.
When I was younger, losing a friend was the most dramatic thing that could possibly happen. “Ugh, how could she not come to my birthday? I thought she was a REAL friend!” I would think, clinging on to people that did not add anything positive to my life.
But as I got older, many friendships quickly faded. Whether it was because the friendship became long-distance as college acceptances broke down seemingly strong bonds or because priorities no longer aligned, the people I thought would be my friends forever practically became nonexistent. I would fight for friendships I thought were real. But the meaning of real friendship was not clear to me until I could count my real friends on my hands (and maybe a few toes).
My opinion: a real friendship requires effort but an effort that is reciprocated. If there is an understanding that an annual catch-up over coffee is all you have time for, that’s fine too. Sometimes, that is just how it has to be. But, I have learned not to fight harder for a friendship than I should be.
Now although I do not have a dramatic story about an archnemesis that planted a bitter seed towards my view on friendship, I quickly realized that distance or “being busy” truly tests the durability of any relationship.
And don’t get me wrong, I have contributed to my fair share of neglected communication. But, as you acquire an endless list of responsibilities a year passes before you realize, “I do not remember the last time I had a conversation with that person” yet they were your “best friend” just a few years ago. Priorities change and people change too. This does not mean that person is terrible or irrelevant, it just means that you have grown apart and it takes maturity and understanding to be okay with that.
This is not a call to action to cut all ties with people you do not speak to every day, rather it is a reflection on the evolution many friendships undergo. There are different people for different phases of your life, some will remain in those phases and some will stay for the long-haul.
As my mom always says, “Life is like an elevator. You have to let some people off before you can let others on.” And, as college brought me people who have had a positive impact in my life and has allowed weak relationships disintegrate, I have realized life is just that.