Woman Asunder

There are times when I feel incredibly isolated. I find myself feeling like I have no friends, or have only shallow friendships. I worry about making new friends, or whether or not I have “my people”. Ultimately, when I start to really list them out I realize I have quite a bit of community. I’ve been wrestling with why it is that I feel I don’t, even when I do, and I’ve landed on a few contributing factors.

• Factor 1 – I am an extrovert.

The way in which I define extrovert is someone who is energized by being around people (versus someone who is drained by interacting with people). I have always had a tendency to get melancholy when alone for too long. I’ve had serious FOMO for as long as I can remember. In college, I would get nervous walking into the cafeteria because there might not be anyone to sit with and I felt weird sitting alone. If I found myself alone on a Friday night I’d sit and wonder what everyone else was doing and why I didn’t have plans.

I wanted to know everyone. I wanted to be in every group. I wanted to talk to every person on campus. I was, for lack of a better word: friendly. This led to a lot of social group “hopping” and no solid circle that I consistency spent time with. In high school and college, it worked for me. Everyone was in the same place in life, and right in front of me. I really did feel like I was well known and well liked, for the most part. Essentially, I valued quantity over quality when it came to friendships. Maybe this stems from growing up homeschooled and always wishing I could meet new friends.

At the time I wasn’t yet able to recognize that it is far more valuable to be very close friends with a few people, rather than “know” everyone. Still, I graduated with 3-4 close friendships, and a lot of aquantenances that liked me, but with whom I’d ultimately lose touch.

• Factor 2 – I had codependent parents.

The version of love that was modeled to me by my parents was one of co-dependency. It’s actually a very appealing version on the surface. My parents were in love – borderline obsessed with one another. They had a standing date night, and were affectionate in front of us. Most of my friends had parents who were distant, and never showed affection. In contrast, my parents marriage seemed like the dream. They’ve been married for over 40 years and are still going strong.

It wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized that codependency isn’t actually healthy. It has its downsides. My parents are both emotionally immature, and very insecure. My mom is constantly managing my dads emotional state and trying to make everyone else responsible for their feelings. Their attachment is at times even a little scary. My dad has said he doesn’t think he could survive without my mom (the implication that he would quickly ‘join her’ if she died). It sounds romantic, but as his daughter it is unnerving and frightening.

Their love also came at the expense of their relationships with others. Don’t get me wrong, they love their children. But their relationship always came first, and we knew we came second. I developed a core belief that this was the proper order of things that I am now questioning.

They also had no lasting friendships. None at all that I can remember as a child. A rotating group of shallow friendships that come and go with the seasons as an adult. They have always been an island unto themselves. Isolated.

Out of this upbringing came my belief that your significant other is THE most important relationship in one’s life and should be put above all other relationships. Perhaps this is why I always prioritized my boyfriends over my friends. Or why when I got married, I expected my husband to show the same level of obsession that my dad showed my mother.

Now I can recognize that a healthy relationship is one where you are responsbile for your own emotions and wellbeing. One where you have interests and friendships outside of the two of you. But by the time I learned these lessons, the majority of my childhood and college friendships had fallen by the wayside.

• Factor 3 – I’ve lost quite a few close friendships over the years.

I have always had 1 or 2 very close friends. I met my childhood best friends in 3rd grade and 10th grade. We were thick as thieves through high school and into college. They were co-maids of honor in my wedding. I thought they would be my forever best friends. I beleived that our friendships would endure for a lifetime. I was wrong. Losing those friendships was an incredibly painful part of my 20s. It was a shock that took years to understand and grieve.

By my late 20s/early 30s, I finally felt I had put down roots and found the friendships that would carry me through adulthood. I lost that community as well for complicated reasons mostly outside my control (and closely linked to the loss of my faith).

Moving back to my hometown at age 33 was an effort to be near my family again – the only support system that has remained intact and steady throughout my life. I rekindled old frienships, and got very close with one particular friend really out of sheer luck (we happened to both be going through deconstruction and the break down of our marriages at the same time).

Now I am losing my best friend – my husband. The one person who I thought would always be by my side. The one person who made me feel like I’d never be alone, would always have a partner. Even this person – the one my parents example told me would be my forever person – is leaving. And once again, it feels like I have no control over the situation.

I have people here, but maybe all of the loss over the years makes me feel like they could disappear at any moment without warning too. For me, it’s not absent parents, but instead the loss of these other relationships that has given me such a fear of abandonement and being alone.

• Factor 4 – It’s hard to make friends as an adult.

Making friends is built into your community as a teen and young adult. Everyone is trying to find their people. By your 30s, people aren’t really in the market for new friends unless they are going through some huge life transition or move to a new city. Most people in their 30s and 40s seem settled.

Where do you even meet new friends as an adult? I only ever knew how to build community in the context of church. How do you find likeminded friends in real life when church isn’t an option? How do you not come across as desperate?

And even when you find your people – adult friendships are an entirely different beast compared to young adulthood. They aren’t really the sort where you spend every day together. Even my best friend I am lucky to hang out with once a month. With kids, jobs, relationships – how will I keep myself busy enough to not let the loneliness creep in?

The Art of Loneliness

Reading back through this I find myself thinking – is it any wonder the prospect of life on my own feels so bleak? Divorce is a lonely business. I have been doing my best to focus on self care and reaching out to the support group I have – reminding myself of all the people in my life who love and care for me. And there are many.

Still…being alone is an artform, and one I am still trying to master.