Like all good breakthroughs, this one came in the shower.
A couple of months ago, I was at a friend’s birthday shindig at the club. I’d actually been looking forward to it. It’d been so long since I spent time with these people, and I needed human contact. I totally forgot how much I hate clubs and how displaced I feel from our social circle. I live so much in the confines of my brain these days that I’d been ignoring the emotional craving to talk face-to-face. The promise of reconnecting with the friends I’d abandoned pursuing my business dream eclipsed my usual social anxiety.
Until I got there.
The instant we walked in, it hit me all at once. I don’t belong here. I’m not a part of these people’s lives anymore. No one has anything to say to me; I don’t have anything to say to them. I can’t drink enough to dance cos then I can’t drive home. And so on.
I sat on the bench for two and a half hours watching everyone else dance and enjoy their unspoken bond. As the place filled up, I felt less uncomfortable since people were too distracted to notice me, but I couldn’t stop brooding.
About a year ago, I had an enormous falling-out with a very close friend, involving massive misunderstandings and a lot of hurt feelings on both sides. She recovered; I didn’t. I still feel awkward and highly self-conscious around her, even though she’s given me no indication of harboring any ill-will. Yet I still carry around a fear, a guardedness where none existed before.
It’s not her; it’s me.
Whenever I have a moment like I did at the club – a situation in which I feel so othered, so foreign and wrong – it shoots me down into a mini-Hole. Rather than sinking deeper into the funk, though, I try to search for reasons.
Why can’t I bounce back after a conflict with a friend? What barriers are silently erected in my heart? Why can’t I dissolve them even when I want to?
Then, in the shower the next day, it hit me.
When I was a little girl, my aunt always told me I was actually her daughter, and she spoiled me as such. She was my favourite person in the whole world, and in a few ways, she still is. She brought me to Europe, showed me new ways of living, and expanded my horizons. I idolized her glamourous life, beautiful things, and European outlook. All I wanted was to be like her when I grew up.
Around age 14, my mom sent me to live with my aunt for six months to “get me under control.” But rather than the utopian life I’d anticipated, we butted heads constantly. I was a jaded teenager with invincibility and omniscience complexes matching wits against a grown woman with a razor-sharp mind and tongue to match.
I went home relieved and changed. I still loved my aunt dearly, but things were…different.
When she had a daughter of her own in 2000, and I was named godmother, things started to nosedive, and I was at a loss to understand why. Once I started to disagree with her, to assert my own will on my life, we argued. A lot. Harsh words were exchanged all across the family, creating a heart-wrenching drama that destroyed the bond we’d shared so tightly before. I wasn’t her surrogate daughter anymore, and I’m pretty sure she still hates me.
This is why I can’t rebound when I feel betrayed or misunderstood or ignored.
My aunt had my whole heart. We struggled through hard times when I lived with her, but the nuclear explosion after my goddaughter’s birth made a wound that never healed. Even when I visited her three years ago, it was tense and strange. There’s rift there that I can’t seem to bridge. I’ve learned to be afraid of reconnecting with her because I’m slapped away roughly each time.
And so it goes.
Whenever I fall out with a friend, my heart calls back to this first hurt, this unhealing wound, and I’m unable to lower the shields for fear of being scratched up again. My heart’s lesson has been to stay guarded whenever my vulnerability is violated, even if I desperately want to rebuild. It’s unfair and shitty.
I know the key is forgiveness. It sounds so easy on the surface, and I want to be rid of this weight so badly. But, like the Avada Kedavra, you have to mean it – I have to be genuinely ready to forgive her and myself for it to work. The journey to meaning it is a long one, and many good friends may be lost before I get there because I haven’t learned to reincorporate them.
Reaching the next level of awesomeness is rarely easy, and sometimes, like this time, it’s dark and full of sacrifice.
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Rifling through the vaults of memory to find the roots of our present unhappiness is a terrifying and confusing journey. Let me hold the lantern while you dig.
I relate. And like you, I'm not necessarily ready for complete forgiveness… perhaps someday.
*hugs* Someday is okay. No rush.
What a deep and honest sharing Ellie! Each insight you have brings you closer to a resolution. You have the answers inside.
*nodnod* Logically, I know that. It's just hard to see most of the time. Talking it through – whether one on one with a friend or in writing with you all – helps loads.
Wonderful insight. I'm going to pass this along to someone I think needs to hear what you had to say. :)
Thank you, my dear. And definitely pass it along – sharing stories, even if they're hard ones, is how we can help each other heal.
It can be quite lonely journeying along the inner growth process sometimes……the new you that you reach and become is not the same being anymore……and along the way we can try to hang on to things or let go, resist or accept…but we all need to do it in our own time………..growing up is hard to do! But so worth it………….thx for sharing Ellie…..
Wise words, Gina. The growth process is both marvelous and painful at times. The good thing is that when we stay with our Self, the whole transition is easier. Doing it is the tricky part.
I think this might be more common than is initially visible on the surface of a lot of human interaction. Thanks for putting a name to the face, so to speak.
wow…that's really intense and I can sense how difficult that must have been to write. It's courageous to put yourself out there and make yourself relatable. Congrats on taking the bull by the horns on this one.
Thanks, Steve. Writing super personal stuff like this is always scary because of the fallout that can happen (and I did get a couple of emails), but it's so important to not just get it out, but to share with others so they can find their own way, too.
You know….I find generally speaking…that the more open and vulnerable I am, the more I tend to connect with people who are good for me. Had I not been honest about the heart wrenching 5 years of toxic abuse & twisted self (my ex & I are both good people…but put us together and we morphed into I-don't-know-what), I don't think I would've captured Gene's imagination & heart like I have.
It's when I slam the doors shut to "protect" myself that things start getting weird & awkward. Besides–what kind of awful conceit is it for me to assume I know what they're thinking? It's far better for me to pedantically outline my every though & feeling than risk assuming the worst needlessly….in my opinion, of course. :)
I hear what you're saying, sweets. Staying open is the better option, but it's not always easy (or possible). Being honest about our feelings can be the hardest thing in the world if we suspect or plain know that they won't be heard or be mangled. Becoming perfectly open is a growth process that takes practice; not everyone is on the same level, so we communicate differently. I'm much more open than a lot of people I know but less open than others. And thus we find it difficult to get across these delicate ideas.
Thanks for the deep thought, my dear.
You write so good! I can totally relate, and I'm so thankful for your insight on this matter. Friendships are not my strongest area, and I was very lonely when I grew up. I think I see this connection, like you, but the question is what do I do about it? Continue to soul-search until I'm ready to move on?
My very best advice is to always soul-search but don't let it be an either/or situation. You have to continue to live, you know? I still have friends and continue to reach out for connection despite knowing this personal trouble because it's worth it. As long as you're open going forward about the difficulty you have, you'll find people who are understanding of it (like Jeanie said above). <3
This feels very familiar…
For me, the problem comes with my black and white thinking. A person is either good or bad and there is no in between. Once they "betray" me, they are in the bad category. This kind of thinking comes from my childhood of violence and my need to self protect. It worked to some degree as a coping mechanism in that extreme environment.
But the thing is, of course, that my life now is NOT that extreme environment and not everyone is my parents. Just as not everyone is your Aunt.
I so hear you, Christine. I lived a long time like that but managed to talk myself out of black and white thinking because it was hurting me AND others, which sort of defeated the purpose of having such delineated categories. (Not saying you should or could do that – just sharing my experience.) There are so many layers that go into these kinds of interactions that it's hard to pull them all apart once you start looking closely. Black and white doesn't work, and not everyone is the person who hurt us, but there are other things that get in the way, too. For me, I can see the way to healing is going to involve both some humility and some cutting of old threads.
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