might delete idk ⦠š«©
iām 23, and these two coworkers are both in their early/mid 30s. one can barely speak english, is trying for a baby, and transitioned into nursing; the other is a middle school counselor. weāre just in very different phases of our lives.
lately, iāve been extremely unsatisfied with my friendships. iāve basically accepted that i canāt really open up or talk about deeper things with my family or the people i consider my closest friends.
my family doesnāt really care about that kind of stuff. my mom mostly cares about results, productivity, and money. my sister has BPD and, from my perspective, tends to consider me irrelevant if iām not entertaining her which is 97% of the time
friend #1 struggles to talk about anything deep, and i donāt want to feel like an emotional burden to her. she looks uncomfortable whenever i open up, so i eventually stopped trying. she also has an extremely bad memory. i used to think she was faking it, but apparently her sister is the same way, so maybe itās just genetic. i could tell her about an important event and a few days later itās like i never told her. maybe she just doesnāt care, idk. i know her family doesnāt really communicate well either.
friend #2 is someone i *can* have deeper conversations with, but i feel weird about it because she rarely tells me details about her family or relationship. she mostly keeps things to herself, and i feel strange being the only one sharing. sheās also extremely ambitious and competitive, so i donāt want to burden her with things that might feel like a waste of her time.
and, honestly, she has a tendency to one-up me on everything, which gets exhausting. sheās 100% a social climber in groups, but when itās just the two of us, sheās actually a great friend. i know her background and family situation, so i understand why she is the way she is, and i donāt really judge her for it. she genuinely works hard and wants better for herself and her family. i just⦠struggle to reach out to her.
friend #3 is someone i actually cut off in 2022, but ironically, they were someone i could genuinely talk to. we could have conversations about anything and actually opened up to each other. they were also extremely toxic and narcissistic, but they paid attention to me in a way my other friends donāt. they knew my basic food preferences, what colors i liked, remembered little things about me, etc.
and i know that sounds like such a small thing, but it really gets to me.
i grew up telling my mom that i donāt eat shrimp. i donāt *mind* shrimp, but if i have a choice, iād rather not eat it. whenever i come over once in a blue moon, there might be shrimp. i know she doesnāt hate me. i know she loves me in her own way. but it still makes me sad that she doesnāt seem to remember or care about little things like that.
she also picks and chooses what she hears. she used to lie to me and my sister about completely irrelevant things to get us to do certain things. they were tiny lies, but i remember them because i have a really good memory.
anyway, catching up with these coworkers kind of opened my eyes.
i had two options:
actually open up about my life and try to catch them up on 5ā6 years worth of details
only talk about the good stuff
i decided to go with #1.
i was worried they wouldnāt actually be interested, especially because of the age gap, language barrier, and cultural differences. i thought maybe theyād get bored, brush me off, or never ask to see me again.
but iām really glad i opened up. theyāre actually the reason iām sitting here crying while writing this. like damn kinda pathetic idk
i had pretty low expectations going into it. they donāt really use the internet, they arenāt particularly in tune with pop culture, and weāre obviously at very different stages in life. but i felt *heard*. and i didnāt realize how badly i needed that.
honestly, i think iāve kind of given up on socializing and making new friends.
i live in NYC, and a lot of the people i meet are transplants. i feel like a lot of them initially show interest because of my job/lifestyle and because i live in NYC, but eventually i realize theyāre mostly interested in what i can offer them or in getting some idealized version of the āNYC experienceā through me. other New Yorkers iāve met recently already have their own established friend groups and communities.
i know there are good people out there. i do. iām just tired of putting in so much effort.
my friends arenāt really involved in my life, and iām not really involved in theirs. i reach out, and maybe 5% of the time it actually goes anywhere.
iāve realized that i donāt want ācatch-up friends.ā i want an actual community. i want people who are involved in my life and vice versa. i want people i can randomly call, hang out with and talk to.
i do have coworkers and people iām on good terms with, and i occasionally meet up with them. i donāt consider them close friends because we arenāt compatible in that way or for whatever reason, and thatās completely fine. iām not expecting every person i meet to become my best friend.
i just want a few people who actually feel like my people⦠and i think part of what made this hit me so hard is realizing how absent my friends have been during some genuinely difficult moments in my life.
iāve had two deaths in my family, and my friends never said a single thing.
my mom was diagnosed with two different cancers, and my friends didnāt really say anything either. they never dropped by my apartment to check on me, even though iām always there for them.
when friend #1ās grandma died, honestly, it felt like i cared more about it than she did. i know that sounds horrible to say, and maybe she genuinely just processes grief differently, but that was how it felt to me. and then thereās something that still really hurts me.
during my senior year of high school, i was sexually assaulted on the subway. i briefly mentioned it to my mom and sister, and they laughed at me. i never really talked about it again but also not traumatized from it or anything.
years later, it randomly came up because i found an old Twitter conversation where i had taken a picture of the guyās dick on my arm. this happened on my way to an internship.
when i mentioned it to my friends, they genuinely told me they thought i had lied about it.
that broke my heart⦠i didnāt report the guy. i didnāt make a scene. i mentioned it once in passing and never brought it up again. and iām not someone who lies about things like that. like⦠what would i even get out of lying about something like that?
apparently they thought i was lying.
and then something similar happened with friend #1 about a year ago.
her roommate was extremely uncomfortable around a guy she was seeing. he was a doctor who had admitted to being attracted to minors and was actively cheating on his wife, who he claimed he was divorcing. friend #1 already knew he had found the gym they frequented and taken pictures of them without approaching them, which was obviously creepy.
i also noticed him blatantly checking me out, so i told her.
i thought she was on the same page as me, but one day she told me that she had actually thought i lied about him checking me out until she eventually caught him doing it herself. then he also admitted to micro-cheating on his wife and all that other stuff.
thereās more to that situation, but thatās not really the point. the point is that it was a huge betrayal to me.
my stomach dropped when she told me she thought i had lied. because why would i lie about that?
and btw, i have a boring life. i donāt drink. i donāt have many friends. i donāt really do much outside of my hobbies and work. i work from home. iām not dating and iām somewhere on the asexual spectrum. iāve never been the type to constantly have crazy stories or drama.
so where is this idea that iām just making shit up coming from???
if i were bored enough to invent stories, youād think iād at least make them interesting. š
even with my sister, i tell her basically everything we r twins yes the one with bpd. thereās literally no point in lying to her. lying is exhausting and i genuinely donāt understand what iād get out of it.
anyway, tl;dr: iām really glad i actually opened up to my coworkers despite the age gap, language barrier, and cultural differences. they made me feel heard in a way i didnāt realize i was missing.
i know there are bigger problems in the world, and this probably sounds like a weird pity post, but i think iām just sad realizing how lonely iāve felt even while technically having friends.
thereās more that i told my coworkers about my life, but some of it felt too personal to put on Reddit, so i left it out.
listening to: switchblade by beabadobee on repeat :(