Cherish
I had an important realization the other day, and have been working through the various implications since then.
I realized that I miss the feeling of being cherished, of being an important priority to someone else, of having someone else take delight in simply being around me and making choices to be with me and share with me rather than doing other things.
This realization is rooted in processing I've been doing around romantic relationships, but I gradually realized that it had implications beyond that. I've experienced it most vividly in romance, but it's also a quality of close, active friendships.
I don't have many close, active friendships these days.
I don't have any old friends whom I see regularly.
I have only a couple of friends who I feel I can call up any time, for any reason or no reason at all -- and they are all long distance.
This situation is very much my own responsibility.
I’ve been very indrawn over the past couple of years due to my grief. I haven’t had much energy for cherishing anyone else, and I certainly can’t blame others for not investing energy and emotion in me if I haven’t been in a position to reciprocate. Black holes are not fun to hang out with, and they're emotionally exhausting.**
The only way to change that is to start cultivating my old friendships again and building new ones -- and making sure that I'm more focused on giving and being available than I have been.
I do know that I have friends who sincerely care about me.
I am not boo-hooing that "nobody cares".
This is about having let the ties that bind go slack from my side and wanting to change my behavior.
I'm never going to be someone who spends a lot of time "out and about."
I'm still an introvert with limited social energy.
I don't know what the best balance of "me" time and "friends" time will be.
But I do know that if I keep hoarding my emotional resources the way I have been I'm going to end up with very few friends at all.
I'm really hoping that is not coming across like a whine, nor as if I'm fishing for reassurances that people care about me. I do know people care. This is about me taking responsibility for feeling lonely, and deciding to do something to change that.
** oakmouse deserves several dozen gold medals for hanging on with me through the worst time of my life.
I realized that I miss the feeling of being cherished, of being an important priority to someone else, of having someone else take delight in simply being around me and making choices to be with me and share with me rather than doing other things.
This realization is rooted in processing I've been doing around romantic relationships, but I gradually realized that it had implications beyond that. I've experienced it most vividly in romance, but it's also a quality of close, active friendships.
I don't have many close, active friendships these days.
I don't have any old friends whom I see regularly.
I have only a couple of friends who I feel I can call up any time, for any reason or no reason at all -- and they are all long distance.
This situation is very much my own responsibility.
I’ve been very indrawn over the past couple of years due to my grief. I haven’t had much energy for cherishing anyone else, and I certainly can’t blame others for not investing energy and emotion in me if I haven’t been in a position to reciprocate. Black holes are not fun to hang out with, and they're emotionally exhausting.**
The only way to change that is to start cultivating my old friendships again and building new ones -- and making sure that I'm more focused on giving and being available than I have been.
I do know that I have friends who sincerely care about me.
I am not boo-hooing that "nobody cares".
This is about having let the ties that bind go slack from my side and wanting to change my behavior.
I'm never going to be someone who spends a lot of time "out and about."
I'm still an introvert with limited social energy.
I don't know what the best balance of "me" time and "friends" time will be.
But I do know that if I keep hoarding my emotional resources the way I have been I'm going to end up with very few friends at all.
I'm really hoping that is not coming across like a whine, nor as if I'm fishing for reassurances that people care about me. I do know people care. This is about me taking responsibility for feeling lonely, and deciding to do something to change that.
** oakmouse deserves several dozen gold medals for hanging on with me through the worst time of my life.