A friendship that was once significant in my life is fading, and has been fading for some time. This person with whom I was once incredibly close, who was frequently and regularly a part of my life, with whom I shared celebrations and sadnesses, has distanced from me over the past year. I’ve tried to revive it, I’ve initiated plans, and I’ve grieved it heavily, but the reality persists.
What’s interesting about this situation is that nothing has ever been said aloud to indicate the change. There has been no conflict that I’m aware of or wounding that has been brought to my attention. There’s been no formal ending of the close friendship. Instead, deep conversations have given way to surface-level pleasantries and the energy I’ve put into the relationship is no longer being returned.
Certain deep wounds from childhood friends have left me overly sensitive to the loss of friendship. I’m prone to the fear that close friendships will disappear if I do the wrong thing, a fear rooted in a particularly painful middle school conflict that left me lost and hurt, longing for belonging. As a result, I’ve struggled a lot over the past year as I recognized the signs of this fading friendship.
Yet, I’m learning beautiful things during this more graceful and kinder transition of a good friendship. I’m finding that friendships aren’t a binary state, as I thought was true in childhood. We don’t have to be best friends or nothing, we can flow from very close friends to more casual friends with people who we still like and admire, but who we grow apart from as time goes on.
What’s more, we can become closer with people with whom we were once just acquaintances. As one friendship fades, new friendships are budding and blossoming. While I focused on the winter of this one relationship, I was missing the possibility of spring, lush with new growth. What might these new friends and newly closer friends have for me in this season, I wonder.
Something I’m noticing as I release my grip on this fading friendship and open myself to what’s new is the importance of vulnerability as new bonds are being formed. When you’re in a rhythm with a close friend, particularly someone you’ve been friends with for a long time, it can be easy to flow from deep to shallow and back. When my figurative dance card is full up with close friends, however, I find myself closing off the dam of depth to new friends as I invest in those relationships I’ve identified as the closest ones. I’m less open to share vulnerably and prioritize time for those not in my inner circle, so the opportunity to move there is not offered.
What I’m learning these days is to release my grip and enter the natural ebb and flow of relationships. That grip doesn’t hold off the changing tide, it just prevents me from experiencing what’s to come with delight and openness. That’s not to say that everyone has earned the right to vulnerability and depth, simply that I need to be open to forming a deeper connection when the opportunity presents itself. The result may just be the next great delight of my life.
