Hugs & Friendships
One of the biggest struggles that come from building a life that pursues, relentlessly, my own freedom, a life that does not wait for others to give me permission to take actions my body desires, is finding others who also live like this, that is, on their own terms.
Many of the friends I have had (and relationship with women) have been people that I have met through circumstance, and not because of a conscious decision to choose those friends. After GetReal, I found myself having a hard time relating to some of my friends. I started to see how needy they are, and just how much they depend on others to make them feel comfortable. The following is an event that happened a few weeks ago. It really shows an example of what I’m talking about.
Watching Friendships
Diving deep into what motivates my life has brought me to a place where I find myself being quite selfish, in a positive way. But has brought me further apart from my friends.
The idea that somehow it is my responsibility to be expected to keep others feeling good, is such a pain in the ass.
I recently posted an email to a group of colleagues in which I identified my desire to give random hugs. You see, I have been reflecting on what I can do to push myself with regard to my openness to others. And, for some reason, I could not stop thinking of “hugs.” That is, I’m not much of a huger, but I would like to be. Whenever someone tried to hug me (even my family), I hold myself back from just giving the hug. For some reason I feel embarrassed to hug friends and people I know. Its wild.
I was talking to a friend about this and, well, she shared with me how difficult it is to try something new. She is always attempting to quit smoking. We agreed that the discomfort that comes of attempting to change the rituals and routines of smoking were just as difficult as my inability to just give a full and expressive hug.
So, I devised a plan that would help us both (or so I thought). I did this without her knowing what I was doing. Here is what I did: I sent an email to our colleagues about what we had discussed and how I would commit myself to asking for and accepting hugs. The goal (in my mind at least) was twofold: to push my edge and to be an example for my friend, demonstrating a kind of “solidarity” in the struggle to change deeply ingrained habits. And I explained this to everyone in the email.
Well, that did not go very well at all. She was mortified that I would share our discussion with all our colleagues, and was particularly upset that I would mention her smoking. Of course, I just figured everyone knew she was smoking. She’s been here for 3 years and regularly smokes outside the office and at social events. I did not know that this was some kind of hidden information. Needless to say, she was very upset. She felt like I aired her dirty laundry out in public for all to see, that somehow I called her out. I just never thought that she would feel that way given the fact that I don’t know many people who do not know that she smokes.
Upon further reflection, I acted selfishly. I did what I felt would be good for building the life I want. I make no apologies for that. I shared what I was thinking and what what going on in my life. She happens to be a part of my life, and so was included in the story I shared. But, upon even further reflection, I realize that I should not have involved her in the plan for something that was essentially my personal growth. But, alas, the email was sent and she spent all of today pissed off and feeling some form of betrayal at the hands of a friend (that would be me). She did not speak to me and, of course, others in the department who empathized with her only made the matter seem so much more emotionally laden (i.e. there was “drama”). People walking up to her saying: “are you ok?” (seriously?)
All I could keep thinking was: What if they did not depend on me to act as expected in order to feel good?
I acted with sincere intentions and I made no demands on anyone other than myself. So, there I was, hearing this from others: “You messed up” “You were wrong” “You should not have included her” and my personal favorite: “You came off as a user.” That last one is very telling, is it not? they continued: “You came off as a user, like you were using her to make your ‘strange’ request less strange.” Oh, yeah…that one was my favorite by far!
Just really read that last one for the subtext: what they are REALLY saying is: “you are not acting like others, be concerned about how you are “coming off” to others, don’t act strange….act in an expected way, you are making me feel bad.”
Was I using her? I honestly did not think I was. I actually thought I was simply sharing what was going on in my life and she was a part of that story. I certainly did not need her subplot of smoking to help justify my actions. That was never a thought.
Look, I do not like breeding negativity. I just don’t intentionally go out and attempt to piss people off, much less friends. I am sorry if my email created drama for my friend. And, I have done what is right and apologized, both privately to her and publicly in email to everyone. I have admitted my mistake and have refocused my “hugs” project back solely upon myself. I never want to bring negative experiences to anyone. And, this email was just a case of me sharing what was going on in my life with everyone, my friend was included because I felt that we had a parallel struggle, and so I shared that too!
But, her response has really brought me some insight about my friends. THEY WANT ME TO ACT LIKE THEM. THEY WANT ME TO BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THEIR FEELING GOOD. And this means censoring myself, monitoring how I feel, what I think, or what my desires are. So, sadly, I may have to distance myself from these friends. They want me to act like “people.” In fact, they even say things like: “That is just not what people do” in response to some of my thoughts and actions. While they can see the courage it took to push my edge, they also want me to do so in a way that does not push to far against their expectations. They want me to go only half way…to live as most do: compromising. All that has ever brought me is a broken hand (Long story, stay tuned)
I’m not sure there is a halfway when it comes to building the life you want: who sets out to build only half the life they want?