Thank you to both Nick and Hannah for taking the time to have such in-depth conversations with me about this. I was hesitant to write this because, honestly, who likes talking about their own problems? But I’ve been encouraged to share my experiences, so here we are.
Our past experiences shape the way we respond to the present, whether we realize it or not.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt like it’s my responsibility to make sure everyone else is okay. Opening up has never come naturally to me. I’ve often believed that whatever I’m going through is mine to carry and mine alone. It isn’t someone else’s responsibility to deal with me. Whatever is happening in my life, I convince myself I need to sort it out on my own.
And while I often feel that way, I’m being told (and I know deep down) that it functions as a defense mechanism.
I’m afraid to build deep friendships because I’m afraid of losing them.
After losing one of my closest friends in high school, something in me changed. My default became: It’s better not to make close friends than to risk losing them. Or, It’s better to be there for everyone else than to let anyone be there for me.
Looking back, I can see that I’ve spent years trying to protect myself.
I’ve also always been used to doing life on my own. My parents worked long hours, often from 6:00 AM to 8:00 PM, and many summers were spent at home by myself. Being alone became normal. Over time, independence stopped being a strength and became my default.
And apparently, that’s part of my problem.
Life wasn’t meant to be lived that way.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve spent a lot of time with a group of friends. Some of those moments have been incredibly sweet. For the first time in a long time, it feels like I have friends again.
Ironically, that’s when my anxiety shows up the most.
The more I care about people, the more afraid I become of losing them. And the more afraid I become, the more I unintentionally shut down. The very thing I want most, deep friendship, is often the very thing my fear pushes away.
That’s a hard realization to face.
I’m still learning.
I’m learning that being vulnerable isn’t weakness.
And I’m learning that being a good friend doesn’t just mean being there for other people. Sometimes it means allowing other people to be there for me.
Maybe it begins with letting people truly know me.
I’m trying to be better.
I’m trying to become a better friend.
