Friend. Friendship.
Reading a friend's blog and a conversation with my brother, who came home for the weekend, got me thinking about this concept called Friendship. Despite the urge to quote the Oxford English Dictionary about the definition of friendship, I would rather define friendship in my own terms in my post today. And more importantly, decipher along the way, what kind of friend I am.
The concept of friendship took roots as soon as I stepped into primary school but grew into a sapling only in secondary school. It was the golden days of discovery, disappointment and disillusionment. As I sported the white-&-white school uniform, friends to me and, more importantly, friendship itself were something sacred. Growing up in a nuclear family, where ties and bonds are worshipped more than respected, the idea of friendship took on a similar theme. I failed to differentiate between family and friends. The lines were blurred then by my ignorance, naivety and foolishness.
Experience and Life taught me a hard lesson. Friends are not family. Friends are people you can choose and people who choose you. Friends sometimes choose you to be their friend, sometimes they choose you to be a stranger whom they could not be bothered with any less. Like waves in the sea as they ebb and flow over the sands of time.
Yet after secondary school, I did not learn my lesson. I was too emotionally needy and desperate to hang on to the people I chose to call as my friends. Life did not give up on me. It brought me back to the classroom to teach me the same lesson.
And I grew wiser.
Friendship to me is that of convenience. When one needs company, one seeks friends. When one needs help, one seeks friend. When one needs a shoulder to cry on, one needs friends. When one needs direction in life when lost in the maze of circumstances uncontrollable, one needs friends. When the crisis is over, they need something fresh and that is not me. And so I define myself as a friend to others through these needs.
A friend once complained to my loved ones that I abandoned her and she even suspected that my friendship with her was to serve some political purpose in the drama that raged around us. I was hurt but I was not angry with she said. She is not to be blamed for thinking as such. My actions were not accompanied by an explanation.
Here is my explanation...
I never expect (well almost) anything from friends. Ironically, the only thing I expect from them is to hurt my feelings by saying something stupid or betraying my trust. Yet I recognize that they have needs. Needs that I can fulfill. Like understanding them and telling them things they do not wish to hear from anyone else, in a tasteful yet forceful manner. I listen to them when they need someone to pour their troubles to. To counsel and provide them solace when they are in need. To be their sounding board as they sort out the mess in their lives.
But I admit. I have needs too. I have a need to feel a sense of purpose in any endeavor. Even if that endeavor is to help a friend. Once my friends are stable from the ills that have plagued them, I withdraw. And therein lies the problem.
My withdrawal is interpreted as many things but its true form.
I withdraw because of expectations. I had admitted earlier that I had let go of expectations. But expectations has not let go of me. It hounds me at every step, rearing its ugly head out of the water everytime I linger on the shores of friendship. I expect companionship that can never be fulfilled. Life taught me in the harsh classroom of experience that everyone has their own lives to lead and I have mine as well.
And so I became aloof and self-occupied. Channeling my energies into my quiet moments and family. And waiting for the moment when a friend needs me.
Reading a friend's blog and a conversation with my brother, who came home for the weekend, got me thinking about this concept called Friendship. Despite the urge to quote the Oxford English Dictionary about the definition of friendship, I would rather define friendship in my own terms in my post today. And more importantly, decipher along the way, what kind of friend I am.
The concept of friendship took roots as soon as I stepped into primary school but grew into a sapling only in secondary school. It was the golden days of discovery, disappointment and disillusionment. As I sported the white-&-white school uniform, friends to me and, more importantly, friendship itself were something sacred. Growing up in a nuclear family, where ties and bonds are worshipped more than respected, the idea of friendship took on a similar theme. I failed to differentiate between family and friends. The lines were blurred then by my ignorance, naivety and foolishness.
Experience and Life taught me a hard lesson. Friends are not family. Friends are people you can choose and people who choose you. Friends sometimes choose you to be their friend, sometimes they choose you to be a stranger whom they could not be bothered with any less. Like waves in the sea as they ebb and flow over the sands of time.
Yet after secondary school, I did not learn my lesson. I was too emotionally needy and desperate to hang on to the people I chose to call as my friends. Life did not give up on me. It brought me back to the classroom to teach me the same lesson.
And I grew wiser.
Friendship to me is that of convenience. When one needs company, one seeks friends. When one needs help, one seeks friend. When one needs a shoulder to cry on, one needs friends. When one needs direction in life when lost in the maze of circumstances uncontrollable, one needs friends. When the crisis is over, they need something fresh and that is not me. And so I define myself as a friend to others through these needs.
A friend once complained to my loved ones that I abandoned her and she even suspected that my friendship with her was to serve some political purpose in the drama that raged around us. I was hurt but I was not angry with she said. She is not to be blamed for thinking as such. My actions were not accompanied by an explanation.
Here is my explanation...
I never expect (well almost) anything from friends. Ironically, the only thing I expect from them is to hurt my feelings by saying something stupid or betraying my trust. Yet I recognize that they have needs. Needs that I can fulfill. Like understanding them and telling them things they do not wish to hear from anyone else, in a tasteful yet forceful manner. I listen to them when they need someone to pour their troubles to. To counsel and provide them solace when they are in need. To be their sounding board as they sort out the mess in their lives.
But I admit. I have needs too. I have a need to feel a sense of purpose in any endeavor. Even if that endeavor is to help a friend. Once my friends are stable from the ills that have plagued them, I withdraw. And therein lies the problem.
My withdrawal is interpreted as many things but its true form.
I withdraw because of expectations. I had admitted earlier that I had let go of expectations. But expectations has not let go of me. It hounds me at every step, rearing its ugly head out of the water everytime I linger on the shores of friendship. I expect companionship that can never be fulfilled. Life taught me in the harsh classroom of experience that everyone has their own lives to lead and I have mine as well.
And so I became aloof and self-occupied. Channeling my energies into my quiet moments and family. And waiting for the moment when a friend needs me.
