Onto the story then….
After finding myself excluded from a group friendship, I was lost, confused, hurt and questioning my worth and my value. I found that despite having a very good, happy and full life, I was unable to escape this pain. The emptiness seemed to engulf me as my mind wandered over the details again and again. I tried to talk to my husband about it. Understanding and supportive as he is, his grasp on the depth of my emotional pain was loose, like a weak handshake that makes you instantly annoyed with the person on the other end of it. Other friends were supportive, however, some more than others, reluctant to get involved; and all in a hurry to drop the subject matter. There didn’t seem to be anybody to talk to, who could or would relate to this particular breed of heartbreak. Especially when taking into account the part I played in the deterioration of those friendships. Nobody wants to tell you if they think you got what you deserved. Certainly I don’t want to sit and play the victim. I was hurting, and so were my now ex friends. They lost something just as important as I did when our friendship ended. Let’s just say that it ended badly and didn’t reflect particularly well on any of us…(I have written about it in this blog before if you do want the details.)
So anyway, where do you turn when you have nobody to talk to? Yup, a psychologist. They have to listen and validate you, because that’s what you pay them for!! And being able to acknowledge my pain over this ending was such an immense relief. I wanted and needed to feel accepted and understood and heard and not to be told I was making too much of a big deal out of something minor, which was the general consensus outside my therapy bubble. Therapy. It’s emotional gold. (Physical gold for her. My psychologist drives a BMW. Enough said. She was going to keep cashing in on my pain as long as I would let her! Haha.) Along the way, these sessions became more about me than about the end of these friendships, and I started to feel stronger.
I felt hopeful when I shared a new connection with a woman who I felt could become someone very special to me. As I slowly opened up to her, and spoke of my experience with the other friends, she acknowledged my pain. She never made me feel immature, and never judged me. She let me feel whatever I felt. We discussed openly anything and everything as we each burrowed into the comfy little “friend love nest” we were building for two. The most beautiful thing about it, I feel, was that as we shared who we were with one another; we learned who we were for ourselves. As if for the first time, exposing our true selves. I was married and she was single, but aside from that, as luck would have it - we were pretty similar; even if she was the thinner, prettier, older and wiser twin. (It’s fair to say I idolised her somewhat) We understood what nobody else did. We thought the same way, sometimes the same thoughts. We spoke a secret shared language. We became the infamous BFF’S.
I can now acknowledge, the more she saw me, validated me and loved me, the more I felt those things for myself. What a powerful elixir indeed. She was the best relationship I never had. We were not a couple. We were not romantically involved in any way. We were not in constant communication or contact. We usually caught up on her couch once a week or so and talked until the wee hours of the morning – venting about our week and whatever drama’s happened along the way. If she needed to call in between visits or I did, then we would, but mostly we saved it up for our girls’ nights. Both of us recall these times with genuine fondness. What I didn’t realise then, was that co-dependency was planting its seeds and sprouting all around us. If you are interested in the topic and want to know the signs of co-dependency, I read a brilliant article about it entitled “How to overcome emotional dependency” you can read here: I highly recommend you take a peek.
https://www.howtoforgivepeople.com/how-to-overcome-emotional-dependency
Apparently it can happen with anyone, especially those of us with limited self-esteem and self-awareness, and the most dangerous thing about it is that you might not even notice it exists until you are removed from the source. To directly quote the article
“Sliding into dependency will make you feel like a stalker the moment they change their minds about having you around.”
I mentioned she was single. I wasn’t. It didn’t matter then, but it was naive to think it would never be an issue. Especially for people like me who struggle with change. The writing was on the wall. I was excited for her as she started her journey into online dating and enjoyed all the recounts of the dates; the good, the bad and the ugly. Eventually though, the dates became a relationship. I wasn’t worried, she loved me just as much as I loved her. I left my partner at home to share her company, I was sure she would do the same for me? I would be flexible and I would be rewarded, right…..? If only it were that simple. Because of his job, her schedule soon had to be dictated around his. This changed her availability significantly, and the frequency of our visits started to decline. That said, when he was working, I would be there, on her couch when she could make time. Unfortunately for me; I was now sharing her time more competitively with her other friends too, because the changes to her availability also meant trying to maintain the existing connections with other people in her life. (The audacity of her to try and maintain anyone besides me?! Lol) When we did manage to catch up, dating gossip turned into relationship venting, and although I didn’t see her as much anymore, (and the spaces between our chats and visits became longer) I tried to patch up the cracks with a healthy amount of denial and anxiously carry on. When we were together it was still as it always had been, we just didn’t see each other as often anymore. I felt very conflicted about this. Her engagement happened, and before you know it, she was moving in with him. This was good news for her, but I knew deep down, it was not good news for me. For us. She used to live close by, and now it is quite a lot further than that. Still I would happily leave my husband at home with the children when her fiancé was away and trek there. She was worth it. I still enjoyed our time together. (I still “needed” it. Ugh.)
Basically the more she pulled away, the tighter I held on to her. I started to question her time and how she was using it, because if she had a spare second, she OWED it to me, you know?! I was turning to social media to confirm my suspicions that she was lying to me about her availability or lack thereof. When you stop seeing someone’s intentions as pure or positive, your perception of everything they say and do on Facebook can and will be used against them negatively! Trust me, it doesn't feel good for anybody involved. (If you find yourself doing this please stop!) Plans started to get postponed to times so far in advance that they are forgotten. Oh, I didn’t forget. Score keepers don’t forget!!! You better believe I was keeping score by now. Healthy. Not... Lol. And so this describes my slow decline into feeling like a stalker, just like the article said I would. I was a detective on the case looking for clues and confirmation of what I already knew. We were over. Alas, I was not going to be forgotten easily, or without a fight.