I find it hard to believe people when they say “I miss you”, especially over text, but don’t prove it in action. Who haven’t made attempts in their very able life to see me or check in. Traumas and dramas persist, and still. This irritation is part of my history of abandonment, yes, though I won’t be relegated to that meager explanation. A strong believer in people’s ability to show up, and my skill of watching what people do or don’t vs. what they say is also why I know they can try harder to make space for me in their lives. I’ve always been someone who makes diligent efforts with varying degrees of important folks in my life and even as I’ve aged and understand my own flakiness over time, I celebrate my consistency and availability. I can tell the difference between those who try and those who don’t. Those who like the empty sound of “I’ll do better” and those who actually show up. I see where I’m someone’s priority.
Since I’m working on accepting what I witness and feel, aware of the shifts that can take, it’s clearer to me that I have a ways to go in being alone. In easing into the hurt that accompanies my aloneness, I must focus on that instead of just telling myself that people don’t care when they don’t reach out or respond. When they don’t do what I would do. I need to get still with this uneasiness so that I stop harboring resentment and also cease overexerting myself to stay in touch. To prove a point that then backfires at times when folks don’t return my effort. This breeds bitterness in me and makes the experience of trying to stay connected fruitless, fleeting and inauthentic. Still, it hurts to be the one working harder at contact than those I value. Or to be the one people only remember when in need. Or to be the one they don’t need at all. Still, it’s my job to heal.
I can need what I need, my people can do better and dammit it’s still not about me. Sure, we take people’s presence for granted, assuming they’ll always be there. We let life get in the way. We haven’t learned how to be consistent and reciprocal. Aaaaaaand it’s not personal. I should guard myself by doing my stillness and gratitude work – loving myself enough to not desperately seek that love in others. We’re communal and need connection with others, and I can also soothe many pieces of my soul and body. Get comfy in my aloneness, even when I’m hurting. I am exactly what I need most. When I run from this truth I perceive others’ distance as an attack.
I’m still in process y’all.
Recovering.
Working on this self-awareness and acceptance.
So I’m writing to you (and myself) instead of cursing out the homie or family.
I’m grateful for the regularity and irregularity of contact with loved ones because I got squad and have more valuable connection each day.
I am loved, worthy and I am seen.
And yeah, some friends just suck. But I’m working on me.