The Delicate Dance of Adult Friendships...
We all still fumble with our words, rummaging for the right stories to share. This awkward dance exposes our flaws… and much more.
Yet, I’m already dissecting every action I’ve said and done:
“Why did I say that?” I’ve overshared too much.
“Do they feel comfortable around me?” Go on, offer them more anything and everything!
“Do they like the meal?” There are no comments on the food so far (is it disgusting or worse… bland?).
“Oh no, am I chatting too much?” They seem bored.
“Am I funny/generous/welcoming/kind/friendly enough?”
“Or am I none of those things at all?”
When the evening draws to a close, we commence the ritual: polite goodbyes and neighborly smiles. “Let’s do this again soon!” chimes in, and we plan this hopeful promise before the door shuts. Yet, when all is said and done, self-doubt creeps further into my mind. Moments later, I wonder, “Do they even like me?”
Though the event happened minutes, hours, days (and often weeks) ago, it hasn’t drifted far from my thoughts. Every action is examined under a melancholy lens.
My mind unravels, and I can’t turn back.
All I want to do is travel back and tell that shy child he’ll be okay. While friendships in your thirties can feel cold and (sometimes) prickly as you grow older, it isn’t his fault. No one outruns social anxiety.
I know he is listening inside: the outcast child who didn’t belong. He’s a jigsaw piece that didn’t quite fit into this picture. But someday, he’ll complete the elusive puzzle he fit into all along.
Communicating the thoughts and ideas of “me” is an ongoing journey. Not everyone will understand my story. Many will get the wrong impression. Especially if at times I can’t article myself well! There will always be moments when I question what I said and did and how I can remedy the situation. But honestly the experiences are faded into the past. I can’t change what’s happened, no matter how many scenarios I conceive in my head.
Despite knowing this, I can’t argue well against anxiety. It’ll always remind me of the outcast child I still feel like at times. Still trying to navigate the delicate art of socialising. Even if I never fit in and don’t truly belong anywhere, I still tell myself that I am exactly where I need to be. It’s a simple reassurance. But affirmations like these help me navigate the chaotic labyrinth of my mind. At the end of the day, all I can do is support myself with love and self-compassion. I’ve learned to like me and that is all the validation I’ll ever need. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter what people think of me; it only matters what I think of myself every day.
And that should be more than enough.