I Lost An Old Friend But Was Actually Dumb To Ignore Important Signs
It happened suddenly but the truth was not my loss.
Pippa and I were thick; she was an old friend who was my safe place when I had none.
We were children of the 90's. Our classrooms had high ceilings and paint peeling off the walls. The heat would bounce around the room all year round urged on by languid ceiling fans. We sat on wooden benches and had a ‘bench mate’ to share them with.
I spent lonely hours staring at the peeling paint before Pippa entered my life.
I was twelve that year and freaking out because I had to share my bench with a girl I barely knew. Seating us with unfamiliar kids was their way of making us mingle. That was how Pippa, and I were thrown together. At first, I was wary of her and kept a distance. It was the third day in a row that I was peeking at her from the corner of my eye, and she was at me. It was getting boring when I heard her mimic the teacher under her breathe.
I would learn later that she liked mimicking and mimicked me when I wasn’t around.
But at twelve all I could grasp was my new bench mate was fun. So, our friendship was born. When young we seek out similarities, not differences in people. Pippa was an only child like I was. We shared the same delicate features & small build, and our classmates would say that we looked like sisters. We bonded over a shared love of pranks, words, Agatha Christie mysteries, and an intense pre-teen dislike of dolling up and boy bands.
In my youth, I was blind to what we didn’t have in common, which becomes the kind of stuff that consumes us as we age.
I came from a troubled home. To escape my parents who fought over money troubles I would hide in dark corners, finding solace in books. Pippa was from a wealthy family. She learned to find and like herself at the same time that I was discovering and embracing self-loathing.
She was the only old friend I stayed in touch with after school and I watched her blossom.
In college, we no longer looked similar. Pippa had grown in inches and was pretty. She was sunshine and happiness, with a twinkle in her eye and a quick sense of humor. Young girls gain self-esteem and admirers as they blossom into young women. I gained neither because the stresses at home forced me to fade into myself.
I needed Pippa more than ever but then she revealed her mean streak. She chose to ignore me when she had her cooler friends around. She would use and throw me often. Like the time I was sick but she forced me into seeing a movie together because her boyfriend was busy.
I was sensitive and I suspect Pippa knew that. Even so, her sense of humor was cruel, and I cringed when she made fun of me around our other friends. But I had not learned to stand firm against behavior I disliked so the pattern was set. I was the poor little friend who was mostly there to give her company on lonely days.
Adulthood brought forth the best and the worst in the two of us.
It separated my path from Pippa’s for a while, during which time I got a master’s degree and used it to land a fancy job. But young adults continue to look at the world through the lens of their childhood, which is probably why I was grappling with poor mental health. Pippa on the other hand thrived in happiness, travelled the world, and was engaged to be married.
When we reconnected after seven years, she was eager for the status quo which I resented. For heavens sake I was making serious money now!
To her though I was still the poor, plain, badly dressed friend. She was oblivious that my fortune had changed. I had an upgraded wardrobe and men’s attention still was starved for her acceptance. Our differences that simmered in the background rose to the surface even while we stood by the other’s troubles & joys.
My boundaries have forever been blurred because of my poor mental health. So, I allowed Pippa to violate them again and yet again. But her trespasses were starting to annoy me. I was angry that she still thought I was available at her beck and call. I was angry that she made my home her drinking den but was late in consoling me when my grandmother died. The bottled-up hurts of the past made me angry.
An old friend is not beyond politics.
The final nail sealed the coffin of our dying friendship when my son was born. I was a mama and my worldview had changed. After a divorce, her worldview changed as well. I no longer shared her belief that children are pesky brats. I couldn’t hang out at her will anymore. Our conversations became rare. When one such conversation changed course towards politics, we found that our views were polarized. I could feel the friction in the air when we finally hung up on each other. A week later she was gone from my life. She blocked all my channels of reaching her and went underground for a while.
After the years we spent as friends, now there is nothing. When I search the void for answers, this is what it seems like.
There is no rulebook for friendship.
There are self-help books on romance, YouTube videos on breaking from trauma cycles, and tips on Quora to tackle evil mothers-in-law (the last will kill your belief in humanity). But help on how to deal with or keep a friend, nada. We get into the relationship drama called friendship completely unprepared, our point of reference being the unhealthy friendships of our parents (if we ever witness them at all). Yet friendships remain some of the most valuable rapports we will ever make. They dictate who we become, how we love, our vocations, and who we turn to in a crisis.
I was needy and hungry for validation as a child.
I wanted to relate to somebody, I wanted somebody to be able to relate to me. Pippa with tastes similar to mine seemed to be relatable. The innocence of childhood bonds kept our differences at bay. But as Pippa grew so did her social circle. I was stuck in a time when our friendship was still my world. She stepped into a new world and our rapport became transactional to her. I was her convenience rather than her priority. When our differences peaked, she bailed out of our bond.
All the same, a good friendship is not about complete compatibility just like a good relationship is not.
Friendship is about having similar values and respecting the other’s vulnerable humanity.
I feel bad that Pippa is lonely post-divorce. I worry about her sometimes. But I think I am past wanting her back in my life. Not many people last for more than a few seasons or reasons and I am past my season of neediness.
I have changed my old friend’s name in the story to protect her identity. Other than that, everything I have written here happened. I am now a changed person. Three years of therapy have made me realize that I need to know another old friend whom I have ignored all the while: me. These days I am finding that girl in the mirror I had forsaken a long time ago.
I am a freelance copywriter who writes blogs that increase business sales. I like to work with businesses who consider kindness a virtue & want to make the world a better place with their product/ service. You can talk to me on LinkedIn to know more.
You can also read my other piece on friendship:
