Me, my first instinct is to withdraw. There is, though, a small part of me that wants to stay firmly put, to remind them that I’m worthy. Likeable. Good enough. I don’t, though, because I know these things, and that should be enough. It has to be.
It feels like high school – only, there’s no eventual and permanent separation to look forward to. There’s no graduation, after which you will leave them all in the dust and have adventures in far away places with people who see you for who you are. Adulthood only offers promises of more of the same. Feeling sorry for yourself is not an option because it’s horribly pointless. You’re a grown ass woman! You don’t need to be liked by everyone! But…
There’s always a but.
For me, the emotional byproduct of the situation hasn’t been feeling sorry for myself. No woe is me. Rather, it’s been an intense feeling of missing. I miss my friends in New York. It’s like a pit in my stomach, the way I ache for these people. People who get me. Who loved me even when I said stupid things or didn’t feel like washing my hair or ruined our trip with food poisoning. People who knew when to feed me cake and loving affirmation and when to tell me to move on, that guy is a douchebag.
“Remember that time we were walking home from the grocery store and I got shat on by a pigeon?” I want to say, and then we will laugh about the bird shit in oozing into my cleavage, my shoes, plastering my hair. And Krissa will make coffee. Elana and I will stay in on a Friday night and, under the influence, consume a box of Cap’n Crunch. Jen and I will take up half the aisle at Barnes & Noble pouring over travel books. Sarah and I will make yellow cake with chocolate frosting and eat it in bed while batting our eyelashes at Cary Grant. Hello, Dexter. Rach and I will take our Sunday walk down Second Avenue. Biscuit and I will sip martinis – proper ones – and dream about British fellas wearing elbow patches. I could daydream this way for hours.
It’s gloomy out right now, which is the perfect backdrop for feeling nostalgic and for casting a perfectly rosy glow on a perfectly imperfect time in my life. That, I realize. But this is exactly the same way I miss my siblings when things aren’t going quite right and I feel a little bit lonely. And I think it’s perfectly reasonable to want to be surrounded by the people who know my stories. Who would never say, “Sometimes you think you’re funny – and you’re not.” People who just go on liking me even when I’m not funny. Because yeah, sometimes, I’m not.
I adore this post. It’s so refreshing and true, and if I were to put a feeling I have on a regular basis into words, it would be these words. Thank you for being fab. And thank you for this post. I think you’re funny, even when you’re not.
so true. I used to think that folks were making it up when they said you’d never have friends like your college friends (or high school or just after college or whatever), that I would always be able to make new great friends.
Recently I’ve realized that it’s not that easy. These new(ish) folks are nice but somehow they aren’t quite the same. I wish I could explain it as well as you did. And I hope, against all reason, that I’m wrong and I really will find those same kinds of friends again, because the lonely and the pining isn’t as much fun.
Thanks for putting this so well… and for sometimes not being funny
aw, i miss you too, punkin. you didn’t ruin our trip. you introduced me to the world of Moroccan pharmacies.
Nicely done. You have a gift for capturing a mood and helping readers really FEEL that mood through your writing. Thanks.
You expressed something here that I’ve never been able to say well. For me, everything changed after I had kids, most of my friends chose not to have kids and I have yet to find a core of mom-friends that I can really be myself with and include the kids. I love my kids, but I miss my friends. Anyhow, for what it’s worth, I would love to have a friend like you!
You know, I think we all have moments when we think we’re funny and we’re not. And maybe you were having one of those moments. But you know what? You may not have been funny in that moment, but at least you weren’t rude. Because that’s what the person who said that to you is. I’d rather be a little un-funny sometimes than rude. Just sayin…
I agree, when you’re sad and lonely it’s nice to fall into the comfortable arms of familiarly. As an adult I think friends are better as they see you in a different light because they get the day to day you instead of the special occasion you.
As far as the being funny, maybe it’s me cuz I’m a guy, but I think if someone doesn’t think I am funny then it’s because they don’t get the joke. I think you will notice this more when you have kids because you are their joke antenna. At first they don’t get it because they have no reference, but after a while you start to realize that they are funny just like you are.
Keep up the great work and remember you are funny, they are not (or they had there funny bone removed at childhood).
I’ll second Andrea: better unfunny than rude. When I’ve walked into that situation I’ve usually asked, “What?” I feel like the least I can do is force them to think fast.
Oof. I hate that feeling. I completely relate. Feeling like you’re in high school even when you’re so completely not, missing far away friends, missing people who just know you and love you … Man, I hate those days. Here’s to feeling safe, loved, and appreciated even when you’re not funny.
I love your writing. If it’s any condolence, everyone has felt the longing for the past at one point or another. It just means you’re human. The biggest problem with loneliness is that we all walk around thinking we’re the only ones suffering from it (I read that somewhere, and it’s so true.) I’m sorry that you’re feeling down. Let yourself be sad, and then try to concentrate on the future. It might take trying on lots of pretty, white dresses or daydreaming about your new job or spending quality time kissing the cheeks of your really cute nieces/nephew. Whatever it takes!
Long overdue, but I totally related to your post about how your job makes you physically sick to your stomach(unfortunately), and I’m so happy that you found a new one. Can’t wait to hear more details about it, and hopefully a report about your first day!
You put how I feel almost every day quite eloquently. Thanks!
Thank you for such a lovely post – as other have said, I felt like you captured what I sometimes feel so well. For the most part I love my life, but the sudden sharp ache of desperately missing my friends who really know me sneaks up and overwhelms me without warning. And they’re all so far away and scattered, and the phone and skype just aren’t the same… All I can say is again, thank you, and I wish you the best of luck in getting through those times.
And Ari? What about Ari? And how creepy is it that I remember the name of one of your nyc best buds? I’m not a stalker, but I sort of feel like one right now…
Ah, well, I referred to her by her real name in the post
((Sending virtual hugs!!!))
And I’m just going to agree with what others have already said; better to be unfunny than rude and petty.
I moved across country almost exactly 4 years ago to be with my then-boyfriend-now-husband. I left behind my family and my dearest besties to be with him. Even 4 years later I still I find myself with these pangs of loneliness and the wanting for people here to just “get me” the way my loved ones back home do. Where inside jokes do not have to be explained and small talk is not a common occurence. I usually just do a lot of crying and ice cream eating until these feelings bury themselves again for at least a little while. It never gets easier. I wish it did.
Well, I’ll be damned. She seemed (in her old, discontinued blog) to be a very in your face, i don’t give a damn type. I’m surprised she’d use a pseudonym. Also, I loved the concept of Ari as a girl’s name. Anyhoo, hope you’ve cheered up some. Have a good weekend.
I find you perpetually funny. It’s all in the delivery and I think you have a way of making everything pretty gosh darn hilarious!
I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t like you. You seem pretty likeable to me.
At any rate, if people care enough to gossip about you behind your back, they’re just jealous anyway.
I’ve been confronted lots lately by how much I want community. And the stuff I’m reading backs me up: we *need* community to develop in so many ways, not to mention be happy! Connecting to others and having a sense of agency (I think that’s what the Fancy Pants call feeling like you can affect what happens to you) are two key elements of mental health and happiness.
So what you’re experiencing? Totally validated. By us, your readers AND by science. Take that, Clique!
It’s an old refrain of mine, so I’ll just hit the chorus: I often wonder if we haven’t traded in some of our connection and community skills for veritable worship of individualism and self-sufficiency.
And, FWIW, I’m sure you have several hundred readers who would absolutely have your back. How many of the Clique can say that??
It’s posts like these that remind me that you’re the real deal, a writer. Thank you for writing this.
Hi! Glad to have discovered your blog.
As a teacher, I seem to have good success at making my students laugh. I even have good success making my family members laugh. However, my humor seems to fall flat on some of my colleagues. Can’t charm everyone, I suppose.
Hi! Glad to have discovered your blog.
As a teacher, I seem to have good success at making my students laugh. I even have good success making my family members laugh. However, my humor seems to fall flat on some of my colleagues. Can’t charm everyone, I suppose.
Hi! Glad to have discovered your blog.
As a teacher, I seem to have good success at making my students laugh. I even have good success making my family members laugh. However, my humor seems to fall flat on some of my colleagues. Can’t charm everyone, I suppose.
Hi! New here. Glad to have discovered your blog.
It’s funny. I can make my students laugh. I can even make my family members laugh. However, my humor appears to be lost on some of my co-workers. Which is to say: You can’t charm everybody.
I really liked reading your post. I can really relate. Especially those times when I want to be funny.
Hi! New here. Glad to have discovered your blog.
It’s funny. I can make my students laugh. I can even make my family members laugh. However, my humor appears to be lost on some of my co-workers. Which is to say: You can’t charm everybody.
I really liked reading your post. I can really relate. Especially those times when I want to be funny.
i love your blog! you’re awesome!! i can totally relate to this. i hate trying to talk to someone and they only answer the questions i ask, that’s it – and feeling like they don’t really want to talk to me. all i could think reading this though, is it sounds like you do have some pretty good friends, even if you are missing them right now! and a true friend is SO hard to find.
I have to second what just about everyone above has said. We all feel this way sometimes, and it is a sad but true fact that it gets harder and harder to make real connections as time goes by. But it does happen- I have witnessed my mom make some amazing new friends, in her 60′s! I think it just happens a little less frequently.
And have you ever thought about doing a DFW meetup with readers? I don’t know what kind issues come along with something like that, but I’m sure you have plenty of supportive people in town that you’ve never met! I, for one, would be game.
Girl, you hit the nail on the head for how everyone feels sometimes. And, if we are lucky, we can call those memories up to help us and pick up the phone, knowing the voice on the other end loves us and misses us to the moon and back, because our friends really are our lives.
Wow. These words have hit home. I know what you mean and I completely understand what you’re feeling.
There’s a period of time in my life that I wouldn’t change for anything. It was the best and happiest time of my life, so far.
Yes, it sure was special.
Thanks for reminding me.
I totally relate – but I also think you do find those kind of people again, it’s just a little harder because you don’t have as much time to devote to developing the relationships. the younger you are, the less is going on in your life and the more time you have to just be with people. And the more time they have to just be with you. Which is (I think) how you develop those very strong, long-standing times. When you have to start devoting more time to your work, and your romantic relationships and everything else, you don’t have as much time to just be with people because there are so many other things that demand your time. And the same thing is going on with the other people you meet.
I’m just speaking for myself, but I’ve found that you can build new relationships with that same strength and depth, but you can’t expect them to be exactly the same. They become wonderful, but in a different way because you find them at a different point in your life when you’re a different person. And it’s a little harder because it takes more effort to find the time to do it. For both you and them. I never thought I’d find friends like my college friends again. I didn’t – but the friends I met when I first moved to San Diego are amazing in their own way. It just took about 8 years to get to that point. And then we moved again. And now I’ve got two groups of fantastic friends in two different places and am having to build new ones here. Which is happening. But slowly. Rob likes to say we’ve got friends who might as well be family all over – it’s just that right now, we’re more like cousins. But in the last year or two we’ve gone from 2nd cousins twice removed to 1st cousins! =^)
Time – it not only heals all wounds, but can lead to deep and lasting friendships too!
I hear ya! I’m missing my home and my family (and summertime) and people who “get” me right now, too. Home is in California, I’m in Australia trying to make it work with my Aussie fiance (who I very much hope will be ready to move to CA sometime soon). I do have a great group of friends here, but have had zero luck in a year’s time finding a job. I just went for one last week that I knew I was perfect for (international student services officer at my old university here where I was an international student and thus, really really get what they are going through when they first get here) and got that funny feeling in my stomach that as soon as I left the interview I was going to be talked about, and not in a nice or professional way.
Your line about missing your siblings when things aren’t going quite right was pretty much an arrow to my heart and exactly what I am feeling like right now. Even though it wasn’t a pleasant thing for you to write about, thanks for sharing. I’m comforted to know that you feel the same way I do in those types of situations.
Oh my love. I miss you daily. In that old fashion way that you miss people who were at sea and walk crags daily seeking masts in the fog. Sick, right? But I do.