NEWS FLASH: I am ready to make new friends!

Photo by Peter Thomas on Unsplash

Oh, the nostalgia!

“One day when I get to write my book, I’ll never forget to include your names on it.”

Read the caption on an Facebook post from a friend. Her post was a picture of us with another friend in BGC.

It was one of those days when a specific memory found me unawares. I’d be listening to an old song and out of nowhere a sliver of memory would trickle into my mind, and before I knew it, I’m already awash with a deluge of the past. Most of the time it would be a fun recollection, and when it’s all dried up, sadness would creep in.

The house metaphor

My life would have been empty without a number of people who have barged in, banged on its doors, and rang the doorbell. Some I let in happily; Some I locked out. For those I had welcomed, two possibilities awaited: (1) They would start hating the interiors but would end up beguiled by how cozy such a space becomes. (2) They would enter the premise awed and slack-jawed until they’d notice the cracks on the wall. After discovering a leak or two, they’d head out the door and leave without looking back. As much as I would like to act indifferent toward the latter, it always pains me to be reminded of the few people I have grown apart with.

Growing old and outgrowing people

It really is easier said than done. Friends come and go; you can’t keep them all. When we were younger and naive, it thrilled us to be updated with everything that was happening to everyone. But now, with years worth of life-experiences under our belt, we know better than to waste our precious time and energy. Adulthood demands us to prefer quality over quantity. And unless we come to terms with it, we’d continue spreading ourselves thin, snuffing out sparks of genuine connections in our wake.

Like most relationships, friendships are formed out of necessity. We are, after all, social beings regardless of our introversion or extroversion. All throughout our lives, our friendship pools have always been limited to our current environment: where we live, where we study, where we practice our religion, and where we work. But because of social media, it has become easier for us to find people outside of those spheres.

Life is too short to cling onto mediocre relationships

There comes a point in our life when — after an unexpected life shake-up — we realize the lack of quality in our friendships. Our initial reaction might be one of the following: we reconnect with our old friends and reignite the relationship or we look for new ones. This might be tricky, because most people would settle for the easier, less hassle option. I mean, why look beyond your social circles? Doing so can be emotionally exhausting and mentally taxing. Trust me, I’ve lurked from one R4R subreddit to another in the hopes of finding a friend or two. In the end, I realized two things: finding online friends is (1) difficult and (2) disheartening. But that is not the point. When you know you deserve better, you do something about it. Life is too short to cling onto mediocre relationships: Cut what needs to be severed, patch what needs to be fixed, kindle what needs to be reignited.

The pandemic effect

Around the onset of the pandemic, two major events took place: my company closed and I left my church. Both were equally responsible for the severance of some of my recent connections — both friendly and professional.

When I left my church, I also cut ties with the people I knew there. For almost seven years, I dedicated my life in serving the congregation I believed I was born to lead. During those years, I buried myself in my calling; my life revolved around my earthly work (job) and my heavenly mission (church), limiting my pool of prospects. Fortunately, I befriended a few church mates, but not out of shared interests and sentiments. The only connection that tied us was our spiritual community. When I took off, my world shrank, but for the better.

On the chopping block

I never thought cutting off people from my life would be easier than being on the cutting edge. After some time it escapes you — that feeling of being unwanted and left out, until one song reels you back in. You remember the promises you made with each other, of a future with them written in it. But that’s the way the cookie crumbles. That’s the way the paint peels off. That is the sign to pack up your things, head out the door, look back with gratitude, and search for your new home.

A promise to myself

Now, with only a handful of friends left, I think I am more than ready to look for my new tribe, meet new people, and make long-lasting connections along the way.