Being Honest with Myself and Going in Search of My People

I’ve really been struggling to find my people since we moved to Texas three years ago. Back in Oklahoma, I had a social niche that I was very comfortable in. When we moved here, I was excited for the opportunity to re-invent myself and find new kinds of people. Then that didn’t happen.

Without the familiar framework of family and friends, I spent the first year feeling really lost. It turns out that I had no idea who I wanted to be, so I didn’t have a clue where to begin my planned re-invention. I ended up drifting aimlessly from one social group to another, not really belonging in any of them.

By the second year, I was knee deep in the book writing which would turn me into a hermit for six months, interspersed with medical emergencies which wiped out any social energy I did have. I put effort into cultivating the friendships which didn’t require my physical presence. I grew very close to people who live very far away.

Then came the day that my book came out and there was no one local to celebrate with. I’d let those friendships fade, trusting that they’d be there for me to pick them back up when I was ready to do so. They weren’t. I’d let them wither on the vine.

I drifted along again with the one local friend willing to put up with my craziness and a bevy of friends spread throughout the country. And I ached for people. I’m an extrovert who needs crowds, but instead I was living in the quiet solitude of my home. By the time Ella began plateauing from her sickness this Summer, I had taken a long look at who I was and the reason for my self-inflicted and circumstance-imposed isolation here in Dallas.

Part of what had happened was that people don’t deal well with a crisis. That kind of tragic drama is frightening, and people run away from it. The raw pain and fear are overwhelming to those who knew us well, even more so for those with whom we had only begun to be acquainted. A good part of it was my fault. The seemingly constant cycle of meeting people and then losing them in the swirl of my life’s crises has made me wary of new people. I didn’t realize quite how much until a regular reader met me in Austin and said quite bluntly, “You seem so friendly and approachable when you write, but you’re kind of scary in person.” I apologized profusely, because I’d hate for anyone to think that. I know that it used to not be true; I also saw very plainly that it was. In guarding my own heart from being left again, I’d been repelling people who might want to befriend me.

I had to also be honest with myself that just as I was complaining that others hadn’t been there for me, I hadn’t been there for them either. I had sucked as potential friend material, and I couldn’t really blame those who had chosen to not continue pursuing friendships with me. In the swirl of my own drama, I’d missed the times when they had needed me. My need had been great, but there was no excuse for the sucking vampire I had become. Other people needed care too, and I had failed to provide it.

Then there were the invitations I’d turned down or not reciprocated on. I’d not made an effort to fit things into my schedule, promising myself that I’d fit in a social life once my regular life calmed down. I never dreamed that it wouldn’t calm down. I also didn’t imagine that the invitations would stop. What I had meant as  “I can’t now but I’d love to hang out with you/go to your party/go to dinner with you in the future” had come across as “I’m too busy/not interested in/don’t really want to hang out with you.” When we did hang out with people in their beautiful homes, I came home to my own half-decorated I-don’t-really-like it-house and didn’t want to have them over. I didn’t want them to see how un-cool and not-put-together I really am. I was afraid they wouldn’t like me if they saw the real me.

So here I am, 3 years later, tired of being lonely, and resolving to do something about it.

Here’s what I’ve got so far:

• For the next 30 days, I’m accepting all invitations unless I already have an obligation for that time.
• I’m not going to wait for my introvert husband to go with me before I’ll go. He doesn’t like hanging out with new people, or large crowds. I do. I need to put on my big girl panties and go by myself even when he doesn’t.
• Take a deep breath and set my wariness aside. These new people aren’t the old people. I can’t hold them responsible for the things that happened in my past.
• Remember what my Mama always said, “God gave you two ears but only one mouth. That’s because you should listen twice as much as you talk.” This one will be hard for me; I’ll be the first one to admit it.
• Invite people to things! This isn’t like dating back in the day when I waited for boys to ask me out. If I want to hang out with someone, then I should ask and be ready to make a plan.
• Have a list of fun things to do in the area so that when someone says “We should get together and do something….” I have a suggestion more exciting than “Yeah…we totally should….”
• Don’t judge by appearances. My one close friend here does not look like anyone who’d make sense as my friend. (She’s flawlessly put together…I’m not.) Until you get to know us, and then it totally works. How sad it would have been if she hadn’t been willing to see the potential in me.
• I have a horrible memory, but part of being a good friend is remembering to do stuff when you say you’ll do it. I’ve started putting my friends’ stuff in my calendar so that I can remember to check how appointments and interviews went. I need to do more of that. It’s part of being honest about who I am.
• Don’t give up too soon. Socially awkward can run both ways. Give people the chance to show me who they are, not just who they are when they’re nervous and unsure.
• Recognize when someone isn’t my people, and be okay with that. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, and they don’t have to be mine. There’s no reason to try to force what will never be.
• Pray for the friends I have and ask God to send the people I need, and trust him to do so.
• That’s what I’ve got so far. I’m sure I’ll add more as I think of them.

I’ve already begun. I turn 40 in less than two weeks. I wanted so badly for my husband and friends to plan something fabulous for me! Then I realized I only have the one friend I mentioned, and another I’ve somehow managed to pick up recently in spite of myself, and that we would probably just go out for coffee.

I still really wanted a party, so I planned one. I invited all the girls from the gym who I love working out with and we’re going to go drunk painting. (One of those BYOB paint places.) They were surprised and enthusiastic when I brought it up. You see, they’ve invited me to join them on outings before, but I’ve always been too busy. That’s changing. For my birthday, I’m giving myself the gift of a month, and maybe longer, of saying “Yes.”

**Sorry it’s so long. I got on a roll. Did you make it all the way through? Do you want to be friends? Did that sound desperate? Whatever…I kinda am at this point. Look for more updates from my month of Saying Yes!**