The Two Friend Problem

I'd contentedly had two and only two friends in my city. They were old friends. When I'd meet new people I liked, it tended to be in the context of parenthood. No real intimacy was created. They didn't know much of my history, I didn't know much of theirs. They weren't people I could turn to. They were nice and I could hang out with them.

But I had these old friends. (It is hard for me to even call the people we have dinner with once in a while or what-have-you friends. There isn't enough there. It's all day-to-day. There isn't a bond between us that I tend to think is characteristic of friendship.)

I have other old friends, in other places, people I talk to a few times a year or go travel to see here and there. They aren't people I call to chat with or people I can talk to when I've had a hard day. They are hilarious, wild, glamorous and from the past.

I'm not sure how my friendships became so insubstantial--why did I become so lazy about trying to create a real bond with other people. Business. Fears of being hurt by people. Past memories of painful friendships. An idea that I was too vulnerable for that at this point. I don't have time to nurture my connection with people. I don't have time alone, for one thing, to spend with people. I have to keep on an even keel. Safer to hide away in my little world.

In the meantime, with all the stress of work and letting myself go in various ways and my health going to hell, my reluctance to brush my hair regularly or what have you, I became a less charismatic person and less appealing to people. Fewer people were interested in becoming friends with me. I am not as appealing as I was when I'd made many friends and could take risks with people and let them get to know me.

After these nightmare years at my job I was wandering around in a kind of daze. My confidence was shot to pieces. I developed a permanent look of worry. My house is messier than is socially acceptable.

I stopped noticing people. I am living in my own head to a remarkable degree.

Occasionally, I would accidentally piss someone off and that was too disconcerting. I need all my emotional energy for my child and my job and my husband--I can't expend the energy being worried about how to repair relationships.

Much of this turning inward was a conservation of energy, a way of taking what little is left after everything else and saving it for the places where I am sure it will pay off. Taking risks with people seemed to be an unwise choice. Tenure chewed me up and spit me out and I had to get the spit off before my kid came home from school.

Perhaps as a way of compensating or perhaps from getting older I also became less interested in being socially acceptable. On the conservation-of-energy principle working on my appeal seems like a waste of time and money. I slowly created a uniform that consisted of one awesome pair of jeans, one extremely comfortable shirt of soft t-shirt material and a backup for both of these on laundry days.

My awesome jeans got stolen as did my #1 soft t-shirt. So I look even worse than I did, since I'm relying on some very dubious clothing at this point. They don't sell the awesome jeans on Amazon anymore.

I have my work clothes, naturally. I don't dress like that at work. But at the park with my kid, I have a sort of trailer dwelling-semi-homeless woman look, probably.

Sometimes my kid would make a friend and I'd make a love connection with the mom and then something would go wrong--the kids would have a falling out or something. We'd stop hanging out. They'd drift away.

I had my husband for everything, also. I wasn't driven by desperation to seek people out. I had someone to talk to, whenever I wanted. Someone who thinks I'm the bomb, almost all the time.

My two friends are highly unpredictable, prickly people. I don't know why these are the two people I maintained friendships with for 15 or so years when all the other, much more gentle, easygoing people drifted away. It was a product of similar professional trajectories, and locating in similar regions. There's also some chemistry there, some mysterious thing.

I was at that wonderful point where I know I loved these people but at the same time I never needed to think about that. Also, they could annoy me and I could still love them. That family point.

My husband and I broke up once before we got married after a long time of being together. And I remember one of the hardest things, when I would meet new people, was how shallow the connection seemed. Intellectually, I knew that what you are supposed to do is enjoy the new person and then let the years take their course until you have the depth of connection and history that you have in a long relationship. You go through all the misunderstandings and such and then the person and you gradually come to know one another and then you know whether you actually genuinely love them or just your image of them.

But that was hard for me. I guess I didn't have the patience. I already knew someone, very deeply. I already had a history with someone where I'd seen glimpses of their past, their childhood photos, knew where they came from, what they loved, where they'd been. I already loved this person. It was very hard for some new person to compete with the texture and complexity of what I'd had with the man who'd later become my husband.

Are friendships different now? We simply don't have time for people's complexity, for their eccentricities for their struggles. Not new people, anyway. So you hide your eccentricities, your struggles and most of your complexity. Or I do anyway. Then, when you do spend time with someone, much of the self is buried away and the connection you develop is necessarily superficial.

That's OK. I value those superficial friendships. And I know those people are complex people. We just don't get past a certain point. But I enjoy them and like them and admire them. I just never know if I'm going to see them again and I know I cannot ask them for anything much. Nor would they ask me.

To make a long story longer, I am having real problems with Friend #1. And I can't talk to Friend #2 because Friend #2 is also friends with Friend #1. I don't want to betray Friend #1 by going behind their back. I don't think Friend #2 will want to get involved. And I don't blame Friend #2 for that.

I am so unsure of what to do about Friend #1. Do I just give up? He is pushing me on something and now I don't know whether to push back. He is very angry. He is much more assertive than I am.

The problems with Friend #1 indirectly involve my husband. Something that, after years of a very harmonious marriage, created a surprising rift between us. I'm not sure I want to get into that rift. It's just starting to heal over. It's the most poisonous thing that's happened to us and the biggest threat to our mutual happiness since we reunited years ago. It was like a neutron bomb and things started to wither around it. (Financial, not sexual.) I'm not over it. And my reaction eventually had a very bad effect on my husband. We got into one of those scary cycles where you cannot communicate, where you erode trust.

Before this happened, I did not see how people who were very happy together like we were could end up divorced if one of them did not cheat. Couldn't you just fix everything with kisses? The answer is no, surprisingly. Certain mistakes between people that have nothing to do with sex can shatter things that are not so easy to repair. I think we will be together forever. But the spoiling of our happiness--that's not a small thing.

And we are all friends--husband, me, Friend #1, Friend #2.

Friend #1 is not being fair. But Friend #1 tends to be unfair at times. And the basis of my relationship with Friend #1 has always been to give in to Friend #1. (I'm a giver-inner.) But I can't give in on this point.

I'm very confused. I suppose this is some fateful thing, something to make me see that I need somehow to make other friends.

But I don't know how. I'm not sure I could make genuine friends at this point. I haven't done it for years. It's a bit like getting divorced and having to go out and date. If that happened, I'd never date again. I'm past the point in my life where I can let people in.

I'd probably try to put an internet ad out just so I could say I tried. But it would fail. I cannot imagine myself going out into the world and opening up to new people. I suppose it could happen. I don't even know how to do it.

How do you kids today make new friends and what are they like? I don't even know. I'm not sure I was every good at it--When young, I was cute and funny and people fell into my lap. But the skills have eroded past the point of no return and I'm now slovenly and melancholic.

And does anyone develop close friendships with people when they have kids and a demanding job these days? How do these things work?

I still don't know what to do about Friend #1. It hurts, and like a lot of things that hurt and scare me, I guess I will try and pretend it isn't happening until a few years go by and I regret that.

Comments

[magpie]

Sometimes I think my best friends are in the computer. It's hard having friends in real life. There's no time.

[ozma]

But it's interesting to know that, however much you like the person on the computer, you would not be friends with them in real life.

I like the illusion that I would be friends with you in real life-and it is just geography and my weirdness that separates us.

You know, I'll bet we could be. If you lived downstairs or next door. That's the thing. If someone exceptionally cool--like you-- could just move within 100 feet of my house, I really think we could make it work.

[schmutzie]

Man, this sounds like a difficult time. I'm a lot like you and either back off or give in, so it's really hard to let my boundaries be known, but if I remember to think of it as setting boundaries and not aggression, it is a bit easier to maintain my footing.

I also find that making friends in adulthood is far more difficult than when I was younger. Thank god I drink.

[Juli Ryan]

Well, I could have written a similar post on this topic. I usually blame my current difficulties in making friends on "cultural differences". Which is my convenient excuse for not making an effort. My grandmother used to tell me to, you know, ring people on the phone. Invite people to do things. My grandmother was a very social woman. At her funeral, she was described as someone who always liked to have a "good time". This is not what people will say about me.

In my life, there have been times when it has been easy to make friends. Like at college, or sometimes at work. But I am prickly and introverted. Also, I often find social encounters drain me of energy, like other people are vampires who suck the life blood out of me. I talk to someone, and then I need to recharge my batteries for two days at home alone. I am probably not superficial enough.

Not long ago, I read an article in the NYT. It was about an aging study, and it suggested that talking to people IRL is important for your brain's health and wellbeing. Like, you will become senile if you don't make friends and talk to people IRL. (sigh)

[minervaK]

Friends are overrated.

[DoctorMama]

"Certain mistakes between people that have nothing to do with sex can shatter things that are not so easy to repair." Indeed.

That aside, here's what I did for friends: found blogs of people I liked who lived nearby and then stalked them. (Fortunately not everyone keeps their location a secret, and even when they do you can sometimes figure it out.) And then once we met up, we already knew some deep dark secrets about each other and already knew we liked each other. It's almost Victorian, the epistolary friendship.

So Google "[name of town or region you're in] blog" and see if there's any good prospects. (I know you'll never advertise your location, so they won't come to you.)

I also tracked down an old friend of my sister's who had had a falling out with her, as had I, and now WE'RE good friends. Evil? Maybe. Wonderful? Yes.

[roo]

I have no idea how people make friends.

Well, I sometimes talk to inanimate objects, so I suppose making that kind of friend is possible. But, while they're good at keeping secrets and not giving ass-vice, there's not much give-and take in the conversation. Plus, talking to inanimate objects won't do much to lessen the fears of seeming like a homeless crazy woman.

Can you confront Friend #1?

[Ajinnashville]

Wow. Just wow.

This sounds so painfully familiar. I had so many wonderful friends in high school and college; then after my wife and I married, we augmented those with some great 'couples friends.'

Then we moved 2000 miles away. We now have one of those couples within 300 miles' distance that we see about a dozen times per year. I hop on a plane and travel back to L.A. to see my Dad and a handful of those same strong friends of my youth, maybe once every other year, however those times go a long way toward sustaining me.

And they need to, because all of the time in-between, the ONLY friends I seem to have anymore are on the Internet: my blogs, Twitter, et al. Apart from the few who have wandered in and out, I've gone the better part of the last 15 years without a non-preexisting IRL friendship being a significant part of my life.

Can't explain it, except to say that perhaps we've just become so conditioned to being self-centered through the media, social media, economics and all the rest, that we just don't have the time, energy, or options we once seemed to have.

I will say, though, like DoctorMama, blogs are indeed a great way to meet friends, but it has to be a 2-way street. I've (tastefully) stalked a few folks in my time, and now have several wonderful friendships to show for it. Just like in any relationship, somebody usually have to go out on a limb to get the fruit. I'm shameless enough not to have a problem being that person. Someone has to be.

Oh, and regarding Friend #1. Dood just needs to back off. Only YOU can make that happen. Just sayin.'

I absolutely love your honesty and the word-pictures you paint. I know you said you were taking a break from the Internet, but I hope it was a fib.

:)

[sarah]

I like to think that you and I could be friends IRL.

I HATE friendship triangles. Or in this case, I guess, a friendship square?

So I have no useful advice.

But I can (and do) commiserate.

[Jo]

The last time I had a friendship triangle did NOT end well. I ended up having to set boundaries (read: break up with) both of them. In the end that was the right thing; this was in the midst of my infertility grief and while I had an awesome husband, I did get into some Bad Relationships with friends.

Most of my friends now are from forever ago; sometimes we've lost touch for years at a time. But it's hard. You don't have the time you used to, all that untrammeled time together.

I bet we could hang if we lived close. Also, most of my newer friends (almost all) have been through the internet. It really does save on time, spilling your most gruesome secrets before ever getting together for coffee. DoctorMama is right on.

[chicu]

oh, ozma. Everything you wrote rings so true.
It IS hard to make new friends.
my old friends, our lives have gone down such different paths that all that's left now is remembered love that inspires the phone call, the 'i miss you'.
I often wonder how to walk up to someone and say,' you look interesting. i would like to know you better. care for coffee?' without seeming loony.
ah well.