The Ending of Friendships

I've been thinking a lot about friendship lately.

Lifetime friends, mostly.

I have a few. I feel blessed. But there are a few that, long ago, were close to me and no longer are. In fact two were in my wedding party. Last week, I sent an email to wish one of them happy birthday and my email was returned because the email address was disabled. Honestly, it was kind a kick in the gut. I knew our friendship had fallen away but this seemed like a death knell.

I blame myself. (Full disclosure, I blame myself for almost everything.) I wasn't a great friend during the year that I was engaged. I guess that stuck with her...forever. I'm sad, because I like her as a person. She's smart and interesting. I did see her since our wedding and spent a lovely day reconnecting with her and her family in California. I can't help but feel really, really hurt. Part of me wants to reach out and apologize and say: "Please take me back. I promise I've improved."

But part of me is also pissed. Because as a wise person once said: "We are never as bad as the worst thing we've ever done." I was a complete moron when I was a young adult. But I wasn't the only complete moron young adult. And perhaps I should think that maybe this person isn't as great of a friend as I thought she was. Why can't she accept my flaws?

The answer is that as you get older, through circumstance or choice, you may add and subtract friends from your life. Life gets complicated. You grow out of some friends and grow into some others. Sometimes it's just people that connect with you because of what you're going through at the time.

I think the real problem is that I have a very hard time saying goodbye. I do not like the finality of things. I hate the end of vacations. I hate the end of events. There is something about endings that is really rough on my psyche. Maybe I need to learn to accept endings. Or maybe I need to look forward to new beginnings. I'm honestly not sure.

60 Things

On January 15th, I woke up and realized that it was exactly nine months until I turned 60 years old. That was a sobering thought. I've never spent much time anguishing over getting older. I don't color my hair. I actually look forward to turning completely grey, instead of the grey highlights I currently have. I pride myself on understanding social media, something that most people my age seem confused by. I like to know what young people think and do, even if I don't embrace it myself.

But 60. Woo. That seems irreversible. And it is. I get it. But I refuse to spend my "twilight years" being a sad sack.

So I started thinking about the fact that in nine months, a mother "grows" an entire human being in her womb. What could I do in nine months before I fell off the cliff of youth?

So I made a list of 60 things. Truth be told, I'm still compiling the list. Apparently, it's harder than it seems to come up with a list of 60 things to do before I turn 60. This isn't like a grocery list or a list of things to pick up in Target. (Side note: I could more easily purchase 60 things at Target than I could create a list of meaningful accomplishments.) Today, on March 1st, I'm at 51, which actually isn't bad. Just nine more to go. I'll do it because, stupidly, I blabbed about doing this on social media. I do that sometimes when I get all warm and fuzzy about sharing too much.

The list is quirky and weird and very few people will ever see the entire list. Some things on the list are like tasks or errands - cleaning this and calling that person or going to see that thing. Some are about learning something WAY outside my comfort and skill zone. The hardest one is absolutely the dumbest thing I will ever do. It's not dangerous, except to my ego. And I will try like hell to get it over with because then everything else on the list will seem like a piece of cake.

But actually, the truly most difficult thing on my list of 60 Things is something I added this morning: "Be kinder to yourself in regards to how you think about the way you look." I added this because a few months ago, I realized that EVERY time I looked in the mirror, I judged myself. It's so subtle and so insidious that it never occurred to me that it might be a bad thing that every morning I subconsciously said things in my head, like: "I hate that double chin." "I hope nobody notices the rolls of fat around my bra line." "I wish I had eyebrows." "I wish I were thin."

You see, it's so common that I never notice it. But friends, I will tell you that saying these things to yourself, even if you don't say them out loud, will eventually chip away at your self-esteem. You will begin to believe your badness...and not in a good way.

So today, I read this article and I've never felt more seen. I've spent a lifetime feeling overweight and less than worthy. I've been told "You'd be pretty if you lost weight." I've been taught to believe that because I don't fit in tiny clothes, I'm not worthy of love or admiration from other people or, worst of all, myself. My daily berations are taking their toll and I must stop.

So, today, I will look in the mirror and say something kind. I will do this every day until it becomes a habit. I've gotta learn to love me with all my flaws and imperfections and fat rolls. I must because if I don't love myself, who is going to love me?