Coaxing into surrender and opening
Coaxing into surrender and opening
The gifts of patience, space, and repair in friendship
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Have you ever had a friend break up with you?
I was broken up with several times as a young adult. In each case I was told that I was not giving enough as a friend. As someone who struggled with relationships and confidence as a kid and felt very much on the outside due to racial and socioeconomic issues—and who thus has tried hard to be a good friend—those experiences were brutal. To this day I carry threads of worry about my relationships and whether I am being judged about how I show up.
The other problem at that time, though, was that I lacked emotional fluency and was mired in heavy shit. The people who broke up with me at some level were correct that I wasn’t able to give much—my energy was being sapped by an abusive relationship—but they also did not offer me the grace or curiosity to have a conversation. And so, I imagine due to both exhaustion and a dose of shame, I didn’t do much to question the break ups or encourage repair.
That said, I do not have any lofty expectations that encouraging repair would have helped back then. It is 100% possible that those people were mired in their own issues that led them to pull the rip cord on me. And as a grown adult with improved emotional fluency, I have experienced relationship rifts that I have tried to repair and the other people did not have the capacity or interest to work through it.
My point is, we all have our seasons of overwhelm and distress and sometimes it blows shit up in a big way. In order to have a conversation and work towards healing, both parties need to be open to communication. Or if one party isn’t ready to communicate, there needs to be trust and patience on the other side to wait out the storm.
And that is why I am ever more grateful for the long friendships in my life. I have a few dear friends who have been in my corner for decades, which means we have seen one another through all manner of milestones, questionable decision making, and dumpster fires. It’s hard to see things clearly when you are working through the muck, but when I reflect on these relationships, I see so many extraordinary moments of patience, curiosity, grace, faith, space.
What an incredible gift. Space is hard to come by.
Speaking of space, I recently had the privilege to escape for a desert getaway to celebrate my friend Heidi’s 50th birthday. Heidi and I met in 1991, in French class freshman year of college. Because my social skills were not amazing at that time, my first words to her—after staring at her feet for most of French class—were something like, “You have very small feet.” Despite that awkward entry, we became fast friends, bonding over our identities as kids of humble means amidst privilege and our love of sandwiches, among many other things.
In the years since, Heidi and I have seen each other through a lot. We have stood up for one another at each other’s weddings, supported each other as we navigated parenthood, celebrated each other’s successes, and held each other through hard times.
I mean, I have even waxed her legs.
And like any relationship that spans decades, we have had our bumps and periods of falling out of touch due to the many demands of life.
The trip to the desert was incredible in so many ways—breathtaking desert vistas, amazing food, no dishes to clean up, a staggering menu of wellness options, more physical activities than one could possibly consume. And while I delighted in each tangible amenity, I was struck by the biggest gift of all: Time and space to shoot the shit, allow conversation to wander, not need to fill the space, deepen relationships.
It was magical to experience several of these conversations while hearing coyotes howl as we hiked and watched the sun rise.
As our time in the desert wound down and Heidi and I were the last among our small friend group waiting to head back to the airport, three things happened in this order: First, we participated in a sacral hip opening practice that we were both keen on trying in order to help with some nagging injuries and issues. Second, Heidi and I had a conversation where we dug into some deep things that we haven’t been able to talk through in our current universe of quick texts and meetups over the past year (we no longer live in the same city). And third, I was able to apologize for my limited capacity as a friend over the past year, while I was in the painful season that led me to leap into uncertainty.
In the two hours in which these three things happened, it simply felt like a series of events. But on further reflection, and some exploration into the sacral chakra, I now believe that these events were interrelated. It felt as if our friendship experienced a deep, needed, and beloved excavation and release. And the sacral chakra, which we had spent 45 rather intense minutes coaxing into surrender and opening, is connected to—among various things—emotional expression.
Unraveling my emotional robot self is an ongoing work in progress. I am grateful for the moments that allow for further unwinding, opening, and deeper mutual empathy.
Lovely, Christine! I absolutely believe that those three events were connected.