Phone A Friend

I celebrated thirty-plus years of friendship with my Highschool crew. After all these years, the emotion of getting together is always the same, a sense of yes, I am home. I don’t want to jinx it, but I do not believe our friendship comes with an expiration date. 

Maybe it is because we keep the rules of engagement simple, fill each other with enough love to sustain until our next gathering. No one packs a gavel, expectations, or comparisons. It never fails; the vault to our past gets open–Wild remembers everything! But mostly, we make new memories.

Saying goodbye blows, I give extra squeezes, close my eyes and offer gratitude for these remarkable women; not all friendships are infinite. Expiration dates exist, sometimes your phone a friend stops answering. Learning when to loosen your grip and let go is vital. 

The Peel

Becky, the esthetician, hovers over me; I close my eyes, the light reflecting from the magnifying glass is too bright. She gently turns my face from side to side, her fingers pausing in the areas of concern. She sits up. “Please consider a chemical peel; the solution will remove a layer of skin, revealing a more youthful skin; I promise, your face will thank you.”

Lying on the table, I feel vulnerable and exposed. With the help of the magnifying glass, Becky sees all my imperfections. I know she is right; it’s long overdue, I reluctantly agree. 

As the name asserts, I peel for an entire week—flakes upon flakes of dead skin. Aargh, for the peel to properly work, I must allow my skin the time to heal (no picking) naturally. I feel like a snake shedding its skin. The timing is peculiar; dead skin is not the only thing I am purging these days. As snakes shed to allow room for growth, I, too, feel this urge. And, it is not just me; all around me, I notice people getting rid of old layers, a season for everything, indeed. 

The Talk

Mic: I haven’t heard from you in a while; everything okay?

Friend: Great, I have been busy (she rattles her busy-ness)

Mic: You have a lot going on. But it’s been months; you don’t have any time to call back? I don’t know a single person who does not have a full plate- not a one- but we make time for important things. So, can you drop the rehearsed answer of busyness and tell me the truth? Why are you ghosting? 

With hesitation, she drops the grenade.

Friend: I am no longer investing in people who don’t invest in me. I am no longer chasing people. I did for years, always available, accommodating, etc. No more. 

(She’s talking about a group of us but specifically about a mutual friend- let’s call her X)

Mic: A clean break, huh? Self-actualization in full effect. It sounds like you are looking out for numero uno; hard to argue with this.  

Okay, but have you communicated your feelings to X? Remember X, the friend you have loved for decades, her name etched in your heart, your phone a friend?

Friend: No, I don’t have the bandwidth to deal with this.

Mic: Translation, you don’t have the emotional strength to have a delicate conversation, to put words to your feelings. Hmm, I didn’t realize X is a mind reader (sarcastic tone). Got it, you are choosing to break up with X without an explanation; in the meantime, X is scratching her head wondering, WTF just happened? As the distance grows, so does the resentment. 

Friend: I don’t chase anymore. 

Mic: X doesn’t chase either. So, is this how it ends? Alrighty then, disappointing.

Penalty Box

‘I broke up with him,’ she said. ‘Why?’ I asked. She responds with a laundry list of things that annoys her about this man. I interrupt, ‘you are listing all the things you used to love about him… let me get this straight, your needs/wants have changed, but instead of owning this, you flipped his traits to flaws? I am pretty sure you just put him in a penalty box for being who he has always been.” 

PT Session

I, too, have been feeling disjointed with people in my circle. Peeps I rely on heavily, including my siblings. Conversations have turned sideways. Instead of merging into traffic, we have been crashing. It’s hard to take hits from the people we love. Instead of dealing, we flee, retreat to our corners with opinions, licking wounds, feeling offended. But it is not just family; It is happening with friends too.

Shifts have occurred, and it no longer feels good to be around them. What used to flow easily feels like work. I dread the phone calls and dinner conversations: their problems, their needs, their wounds, their everything. I am curious by nature; listening is my jam, but lately, I find myself tapping out. Pulling away, frustrated, putting my hands up, why does everything revolve around their needs?

As I often do, I lean on my PT (Peloton Therapy) for answers. And boom, smack in the middle of an All-Out, it hits me, hard break, clarity sets, the obvious emerges, it’s me, I am the reason for the angst. 

The Obvious

Right, I have been too busy pointing the finger, who they are, what they are doing, or more importantly, who they are not, to recognize the obvious. Of course, the friendship feels lopsided. The truth is, they have not changed one speck; I have. My needs have grown, which has caused the disconnect. I changed the rules of engagement, and some of my peeps aren’t abiding by the new rules. This is on me; I didn’t send a memo.  

And how the heck can I expect them to respond if I have not expressed my feelings? After all, do they not, at the very least, deserve an explanation for the separation?

Renegotiate The Terms

I can do better, be better. To say, hey, I am feeling taxed by our friendship. I am doing all the asking, listening, and encouraging. Sometimes, I need a cheerleader too. Our friendship is a one-way street, and it’s about to hit a dead end.

I own my role, yes, it’s true, I have always been the caretaker, it’s always been, I do, you receive. But I don’t want that role anymore; I need a give-and-take friendship.

Reflect

Why is it so hard to be the adult in the room? To say the hard things to the people we love. We would rather walk away, point the finger, spew negativity, or completely ignore the issue. The lengths people will go to avoid feelings are remarkable, including me. 

Redirect

Becky was right; the damage to my skin was profound; I held on to dead skin that no longer served me. The peel was necessary, and so was the inconvenience of flaking; it was the only way to get to the other side. After a week, I reemerged with brighter, more youthful skin.

I am learning to accept the shedding, to discover new depths for personal growth. I am closing a few relationship doors and allow room to readjust the magnifying glass; no longer pointed at friends, instead focus on my flaws. Fingers crossed, I resurface a better version of myself. 

For everything, there is a season. I am an eternal optimist and never use a deadbolt to lock doors. I believe with enough time, true friendships can weather any storm. 

Here’s hoping you never stop shedding layers.

Better every day,