In our regular mental health spot on the Film Stories website, a few words about friendships, and sometimes having to let them go.
It’s nice having friends, isn’t it?
People with whom you may share interests, go out, chat about anything and everything, have a laugh, have a shoulder to cry on, and share your secrets with. And as you get older, the concept of friendships broadens from what it was believed to be in school; you can have multiple best friends, friends you rarely see, and in some cases friends you’ve never met.
I have two people who I consider my best friends.
Jill is one of those wonderful people – an amazing woman from the USA who I began chatting online with in April 2011. Our interests, opinions, and sense of humour are basically the same, and while we have never met in person, I honestly trust her with my life and all my deepest darkest secrets. Our plan is to one day take over The White House as a permanent residence, paint it rainbow coloured, and fill it with rescue animals. Foolproof, right?
The other friend is Mike – we met briefly at a poetry event, shortly before the pandemic hit. After that, we started talking online (at my insistence, because I am nosey and sometimes daft enough to send a message to the wrong person). We also have a lot of opinions and sense of humour in common, as well as a love for words, Star Wars, memes, and mocking government figures.
But the unfortunate side to friendships is when they end, and quite often they do end. Sometimes you just drift apart, or maybe there is a specific event that causes an irreparable rift.
It is never easy to watch a friendship fall apart, but it is harder still to hold on to something you already know is gone. We all have experienced it. I no longer have contact with any of the friends I made in college, and I haven’t spoken to my university best friend in a few years. I do miss them, and – for the most part – still have fond memories.
It is never easy when you must actively put a stop to a friendship. In the past ten years I have ended two friendships that were very important to me for a long time. One was the result of us drifting apart and having nothing in common, meaning we would sit quietly and uncomfortably together. The other was a series of incidents that made me realise I was being taken advantage of; someone stealing from you is not the best basis for a friendship. Who knew?
In both instances I felt it was best to cut those ties, for my own sake, but also by being direct and honest out of respect for them. Both received explanations about why I felt the friendships were no longer viable, while also wishing them well in the future (because I truly do wish them well).
It is a sad fact of life that some friendships, relationships, and even familial connections will dwindle, and we can’t always predict or understand it. But it is perfectly acceptable to cut ties that are holding you in situations you don’t feel comfortable in, and you can still mourn the loss of the relationship.
Yet, as Alfred Tennyson said; ‘tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’
I would rather feel the pain of losing those friendships than never have encountered people who, for however long and in whatever capacity, left me with fond memories. They taught me a lot of lessons about my worth and my strength at standing up for myself.
