Friendships are Harder AND Easier – This Might Be Why

National Best Friend’s Day may have already passed in June, but as the holidays approach, many of us (subconsciously or consciously) are taking a personal inventory of our relationships as we enter the gathering season. Along with generous amounts of mulled wine and pumpkin spiced things, I plan on seeing the people I care about more often. I get surprisingly sentimental as I flip through the latest Willams Sonoma catalog encouraging hosts to create “memorable meals” with their “award winning eco cutlery.” I feel nostalgic, dare I say, even wistful, gazing at a stack of firewood patiently biding its time until it can compose its symphony of snapping and crackling.

But along with of all of the poetic charm the autumnal season brings there are also some logistical considerations. Who are we to spend time with? As an extroverted introvert I appreciate down-time spent in solitude. However, I also find myself longing for connection and reflecting on how many friendships I actually have. As a millennial, especially these days, I’m more about quality over quantity. My group of friends is small, like many of us in this season of life juggling work and parenting. While there seems to be no shortage of spam phone calls and emails about cruises I’ve won, or Amazon packages that failed to be delivered, good friends are having supply chain issues. Some of this is actually developmentally appropriate! As responsibilities change across the lifespan, so do our relationships. During one particular stage of life, our focus may be identity when “we want friends who reflect the identities that we are seeking to cultivate” (Deggs-White, 2017).

As time passes, our relationships may shift in a way that prioritizes connections we make through our career. Parenting, which for many can be a defining role, also presents opportunities to form bonds with others who, through a shared struggle, let us know we are not alone. Now, if this wasn’t an article but rather, a scary movie, the foreshadowing music would start. We already know what is to come based on the title of this blog. Like watching James Cameron’s rendition of Titanic, you may feel a pit in your stomach as you watch the passengers toast “to making it count” on the night of the sinking. The big, ugly, ever variant shifting elephant in the room: COVID-19.

There are much wiser, more educated people to discuss the insurmountable and complex nuances of how COVID has, and will continue, to impact our lives multiple generations to come. I write to you, not as an expert, but rather an observer, who lived and worked and parented during a global pandemic in the mental health profession. Like most of us, I’m still trying to make sense of what the last couple of years have been. Once in while, I have a rough outline, but most days, it’s still a blur. What I do know, is that friendships seem different in this post-pandemic world. Conflictingly, it seems easier…and harder. I’ll explain.

You don’t need to be a therapist to see that people are longing to connect after feeling isolated. Or that sharing your struggles, particularly surrounding one’s mental health seem to be more “mainstream”. To offer a blanket statement, COVID illuminated a lot of yucky things – but it also gave some of us permission to be human, flawed, and vulnerable. Along with this vulnerability came an emphasis on the quality of our connections. With less time, patience, and resources, many relationships that did not have a solid foundation fizzled out. Like most tragedies, the pandemic provided things that hurt and helped. From basketball games, yoga classes, to even weddings, it seems like we could translate any social event onto a screen. What kind of analysis can we do on convenience versus quality? Accessibility versus value? Can we describe the Mona Lisa in a way that makes people feel like they were actually there? Is virtual cliff diving just as exhilarating?

While it is true that some barriers to connecting have been alleviated, making new friends seems more challenging than ever. Social etiquette has evolved, and to be honest, I feel like a lot has been lost. Things feel loose, inconsistent, and flaky. However, tragedy also strengthens the bonds we do have. Yes, people are more likely to self-disclose while waiting in line at the bank, or chat on the side of the street as they walk their dog. But will they call you if your mother dies? If you suddenly became ill, would they leave some soup on your front step? Have values just shifted? Symbolically, is the soup a funny GIF or Tik Tok that a friend sends you that conveys an inside joke? Ugh. I just don’t know anymore. What I do know is that “my people” feel really like my people. And everything else, for now, feels surface level. Here’s To Making It Count.

References

Degges-White, S. (2017). The role of friendship across the lifespan. Psychology Today. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/lifetime-connections/201708/the-role-friendship-across-the-lifespan