the business of caring

For the past few months, I've been reflecting on all of the relationships I am blessed to have in my life, and this culminated in May. Peter, Emalyn, and I went up to Massachusetts for Memorial Day weekend and spent several days with some of my college friends. Naturally, we took a trip up to Williams while we were there to visit our ol' alma mater. I was overwhelmed with a strong sense of nostalgia for my college days, and as I roamed across the campus, introducing Peter and Emalyn to old dorms and hangout spots, while I thought about the friendships I've kept since then, I also thought about the friendships I could have sworn I would keep but ended up losing.

It's funny. When I went to college and slowly lost touch with almost all of my high school friends, I was devastated. I had tried really hard to keep in touch with as many of them as I could, but I discovered just how difficult long distance relationships can be (Shoutout to Peter for his willingness to do long distance with me for a year while we were dating!!). Eventually, I gave myself permission to let go of friendships that were becoming harder and harder to maintain, having been reassured that my college friends would be the ones who would stick for life. That was fine - I was making a lot of friends at Williams, particularly in the Williams Christian Fellowship and in the Aristocows (the Disney a cappella group I founded my sophomore year). At graduation, I took pictures with so many people and was convinced I would keep in touch with them all. Two years later, I was still in touch with half of them. Another three years later, when Peter and I got married, I was still in touch with a quarter of them, all of whom were invited to the wedding. Today, it's even less than that.

Back when I was in school, I clung so fiercely to the friendships I had. I hated the thought of losing them. Because I was never at the top academically speaking, I think I determined my worth based on how many friends I had and on how busy my social calendar was (Believe me - by my senior year at Williams, when I wasn't taking a class, doing homework, or working, I was spending time with someone, which is also ironic because I'm definitely an introvert). I'm a people pleaser, and if someone liked me enough to be my friend, then I figured I was doing something right. However, I quickly discovered that many of my friendships were easy to maintain because they were based on group settings. In many situations, I became friends with groups of people as opposed to individual people. When we graduated, those groups ceased to exist, and I quickly lost those friends. I think this especially stung because when I entered the real world, it was much harder to meet people when I no longer had clubs readily available or when I wasn't the type of person who goes out for drinks Friday nights (Though I did this occasionally, it was certainly not with the intention of meeting new people but rather to solidify budding work friendships).

Things really took a turn shortly after I moved to Connecticut, when I extended an offer of friendship to someone who immediately turned it down. That had never happened to me before...and it hurt a lot. I spent a lot of time questioning whether or not it was because of something I had done and second-guessing myself when new friends came along. Honestly, ever since that incident, I've extended offers more tentatively, waiting to see if the other party truly reciprocates the feeling before attempting to develop the friendship. Though it hurt to learn that someone I had wanted to be friends with had no interest in being friends with me, I realized something: I can't and won't be friends with everyone. And that's okay. I don't actually need to be friends with everyone. My worth is not and should not be tied to how many friends I have.

I realized that it's also okay if friends are there for just a season of my life and not my entire life. In the past, I've attempted to rekindle friendships that fizzled out only to be reminded that the friendship was good while it lasted but is no longer feasible to maintain. As a result, I've grown more comfortable with letting people go when the time is right. It's okay to be nostalgic, but I shouldn't try so hard to cling to the past. I have the present to focus on.

What's interesting is that I've also occasionally gotten back in touch with people I haven't spoken to in years. The pandemic was definitely a catalyst for that. Having Emalyn and writing very personal blog posts also sparked conversations with people I had lost touch with. I might have only had a short conversation with some of these people before we lost touch again, but for that moment, life was sweet. I was reminded that even when I lose touch with people, that doesn't mean I have to stop caring about them.

Of the people I still keep in touch with on at least a semi-regular basis, one is from high school and a few are from college. Most, however, are friends I've made in the past several years while living in Connecticut. I love that my current friendships reflect both my past and my present. They almost serve as a bridge between who I was before and who I am now. I definitely care the most for them. However, there are people I haven't spoken to in years that I also care about. And I've been thinking - I don't need to rekindle old friendships, but I also don't need to avoid talking to old friends. If someone comes to mind that I haven't seen or talked to in a while, why not send them a friendly hello? If I see a status update by an old friend that piques my interest, why not reach out? I don't think I've ever felt comfortable doing this kind of thing because I assume it'll be awkward. But...what if I focused less on the fear of embarrassment and more on the business of caring? After all, people have done it for me. I think it's time I reciprocated.

If we haven't talked in a month or in a year or in five years or in fifteen years and you ever feel this tiny little urge to reach out, please do! I can promise there will be no awkwardness on my end. ; ) Also, I realize it has been seven months since I last wrote a post. Here's hoping I can return to some semblance of consistency with blogging again!