Relationships are tough.*
I can make relationships tougher. And I’m not just talking the romantic kind. Through various avoidance tactics and personality quirks (that’s the nice way of saying ‘issues’), I can be a pain in the ass to get to know. I mean, really know. I’ve never been a cold girl, mind you; I can be pretty damn charming. But due to heavy security measures, sometimes, that’s all you get. I don’t say what I want to. I make up excuses. A lot of times, I even flinch when you touch me. Not because I think you have cooties, but because my comfort zone is about *this* big.
Sorta lends new meaning to Artful Dodger.
The reason I bring this up at all (aside from deriving some sick joy out of emotional nudity), is that I’m getting much better at it. Slowly, but surely. A few things have contributed to the forward progression, the least of which being blogging. Friends help a hell of a lot, too.
The folks I dig, the ones whose needs can mean more to me than my own, are some of life’s best instructors. Honesty over pedicures, a heart-to-heart over lunch, an ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you this’ over the phone at work… they’re all small catalysts to tearing down the fences and rolling back the barbed wire.
In an email conversation a while back, I asked a friend – we’ll call her Anne — how she was doing.
“You want the Anne response,” she replied. “Or the Heather response?”
Touché. I wrote back that while I know it’s my preference to avoid the truth in such situations, I am more inclined to honesty over email. As if that means anything. Anyhow, I got the Anne response, and we went forward with the sharing of feelings — something I’ve never been too great at. But Anne’s great at it. And it’s catching on.
A writing project I just finished made me deal with some pretty unattractive feelings. Not only that, it made me admit them to someone close to me – someone I wanted to keep close to me. I was afraid, quite honestly, that it would achieve the opposite result. I was, of course, wrong. Instead, I got a fairly strong dose of support, encouragement and validation. All of which I needed.
Friendship, it seems — the real kind — can be quite a sturdy ice-pick against some pretty solidly-formed fears of rejection. I’m feeling a lot less dodgy these days. And I dig that.
*If that’s news to you, you are hereby invited to dinner. In exchange for being fed, you will be required to explain how you’ve managed it otherwise.
a good example of that whole “risk –> reward” theory, fish. real friends will stick by you no matter what, and keeping things truthful is a scary but powerful element in a good relationship. (and HOORAY, btw, for finishing the project!!!! i’ve been thinking about you and sending you good vibes from way out here on the left coast!!!!)
It’s incredibly hard to tear down that wall – especially when you’ve been building it up over a quarter of a century. But, pumpkin’s right – the rewards are so much greater. I’ve always been that person in other people’s lives who would be blunt and honest with them if they sought my advice, but I started to realize that while they were letting me in, I wasn’t letting them in. It’s taken a while, but much like you, I’ve started down that road too. So cheers to both of us!
I have this girl friend, who made me insane at first, but who I have come to absolutely adore. I adore her, mostly, because over 3 tumultuous years as roommates, we finally *got* each other. She knows how to be there for me, what to say, what not to say better than anyone. And I know her better than anyone else.
Anyway, my point is, in learning how to have this really open, really honest, really healthy friendship, I sort of feel like I’ve made strides toward someday being able to have that healthy of a relationship with a guy. So I think learning how to be a better friend is sometimes the best practice for learning to be better in all relationships.
Are relationships tough? Or is it just a hint that it shouldn’t be? Sure there’s work to go into all relationships, but where do we set that “too tough” threshold?
Not that I have any answers myself, just thinking on your blog entry…
Rejection? Nah, we’re just waitin’ to see what kind of family fortune is in your background. We stick around for the possibility of getting very rich after probate without having to buy a lottery ticket. Oh…and by the way…we love ya!
How do you find the courage to take that first step, though? I’ve done that and gotten totally wounded, and then slammed the walls back down for another [insert time period here].
I will say this – most of the bloggers I’ve heard from (except the trolls) have been exactly what you say: encouraging, friendly, warm and accepting. Which is why I keep coming back here to read your posts!!
Thanks again for writing so openly and honestly about this. Hugs!!
I’m a hell of a lot better at admitting things via email too, even to people I’m super close to. I wonder what’s behind that.
I like to write people letters (and emails) rather than speak to them in person because the emotional intensity is too much; I’m always afraid I’ll cry. And yes, telling people your fears endears them to you much faster than boasting about your strengths.
you’re a fantastic writer. I love this piece.
I thought of this post while watching parts of “When Harry Met Sally” last night. You’ll notice that in that movie the way they really bond with each other is to talk about how their relationships failed. Strangely, pain can be wonderful.
Wow – I can sure relate to this one. Only recently have I realized how guarded I am with my feelings. And I have only realized it because a new friend points it out on a regular basis and forces me to express my feelings openly. But as hard as it is to express my feelings openly, I have found that it usually does make things better, and more comfortable, and easier, between us. I sometimes wish it was easier for me. But only sometimes.