My Friends

I am a shy person. People who know me professionally never believe me when I say that, because my job is a very public job. I do a lot of public speaking and I do much of the public relations for my department. It's very easy for me to get up in front of a crowd and talk or teach or do whatever has to be done because none of that is about me -- none of that is personal.

It usually takes me a very long time (or some very intense circumstances) for me to trust someone enough to purposefully reveal myself to him or her. I am also often more comfortable not talking when I'm with someone -- I would rather speak only if I have something to say. I'm not good at that art of finding things to say -- for me, it's either there or not. My mother has told me that when I was little, before I started school, she and I would drive around doing errands together and that I would sit quietly and not say a word for miles. She told me that I got more talkative when my younger sister started talking, but by then it was just so that I wouldn't feel like anyone forgot about me. I think I still live like that.

With all of my reticence, it's a wonder I have any friends at all. But there are some amazing people in my life who have let me open myself up to them in my own time. The people who are my friends -- those whom I've trusted enough to let them see my vulnerable self -- are such rich, good, beautiful, and trustworthy pieces of art that I am humbled when I think about what they're doing in my life.

I live very far away from many of my friends. I am fortunate to live close to three of them and I see them almost every day (My husband is one of them -- it's a bad day when I don't see him!). Those friends who live close to me are very important to my daily life. We don't talk on the phone much, unless it's to say, "I'll be right over," or "will you bring some wine when you come?" With my friends who live far away, I almost never call and rarely email. I do my best to call on birthdays (the most important holiday of the year), but due to the nature of birthdays, I usually only get to leave a message. It's perfectly conceivable that I can go for more than a year without hearing the voice of one of my friends. It's back to that driving for miles without talking pattern: I'm really comfortable in that silence.

Maybe part of the reason that I don't have to talk to my friends so often is because I can often hear their voices as I live my life. In that whole process that it takes me to become friends, I'm learning about those people as much as they learn about me. Once we're friends, that person is a part of me and I start to see parts of the world through his or her eyes. Sounds a little like We are Borg, right? Well, maybe, except that the Borg are not selective and I am.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how much I love my friends. When I am in trouble, I usually withdraw and don't talk to any of my friends about what's going on in my head. When I start to come out of a phase of trouble, I find myself trying to reconnect with those people whose voices sustained me without their being aware of it. I have also been thinking about how I feel when I am able to help one of my friends. I feel needed and loved when a friend trusts me with some frustration or heartache and when I have the opportunity to try to do something to ease my friend. It is so difficult for me share my troubles that I tell myself that I'm doing my friends a favor by not laying the heavy on them. I wonder, though, if I'm really being a good friend when I do that. Would I be a better friend if I ask my friends for help when I need it?

I want to learn how to be a better friend to the beautiful people who are in my life. Those who have saved me from unhappiness and despair many times over deserve my attention and evidence of my affection. I think I'll start looking for a book on how to be a good friend... and I'll work on letting them know where my head is. I'll bet they'd be interested to know what their voices say in my head when they're not around.