In the not too distant past, I said I’d write something about friendship. But then life happened and the flames died down, leaving nothing but an ember behind. Well, the wait is over, because someone stoked the fire into a mighty roar!

If you manage to read through the whole thing, I’ll include the very words that inspired me at the bottom of this page.

All my life, I’ve flitted from loner to loner like a very busy little people-pleasing bee, trying to find matches for those who seek me out. Not bothering to seek out people I’d consider a good match for myself, of course, because that’s far too scary. (Also, I never planned on being around for very long in the first place, so why bother).

Regardless.

I wound up becoming everyone’s pal and confidante, but without having any real pals of my own. And with my constant need to be everyone’s best friend, I was ultimately an unpaid agony aunt-cum-matchmaker.

(Boo-hoo, poor me! Relax, it’s not that kind of post). But, if you’re in the mood for something a little darker, head on over to another one of my posts here, or buy my book.

I did get to a point, though, where I’d had it with the upkeep of these one-sided, fair-weather friendships, and I’d have to move far away and/or burn all bridges as thoroughly as humanly possible. As it turns out, you simply cannot rid yourself of a real pal that way.

I’ve known my very best friend for 30 years, and it’s the most effortless human relationship I’ve ever had. That’s not to say that we don’t go all in for each other when needs be – because we do – but it doesn’t feel like work. I know she doesn’t expect anything from me, and vice versa. We’re not afraid to say what we mean to each other, because there’s an unconditional love tying us together. She’s been there for me through some really horrible shit, and she’s still there – she must be nuts. But she’s my nutter.

The interesting thing here, though, is that we’ve lived hundreds of miles apart for the better part of those 30 years. For the longest time, I suspected this physical distance to be the only reason anyone would ever stay friends with me for any longer than a few boozy hours down the pub. These days, however, I’ve realised that’s not the case.

The pandemic probably helped change my mindset as well. In Edinburgh, we didn’t really have the opportunity to socialise the way we used to- at least not face-to-face – so if you did reach out to someone, it was out of a genuine wish to interact with that particular friend. And even now, as I live miles and miles away from my home, these guys are the ones I speak to more regularly than the people sat next to me in the office every day. And, as it turns out (with one or two exceptions in my geographical proximity), the friends I’ve made that are scattered all over the globe, are the ones I consider my closest.

What might have started out as a need to protect myself from the potential hurt of losing a friend has ended up being a sort of confirmation that I am worthy of being someone they’d want to keep in their lives. And the other way around.

Apparently, there’s something about ADHD and challenges with adult friendships worth researching, but I think all adult friendships require something more. They need to challenge you, to sustain you, to elevate you and keep you grounded, to enable you to see your own story from a different perspective when you’re stuck in a downward spiral (or a narcissistic doom loop, for that matter), and you need to be that for someone else as well.

My plan was to research this properly, because I came across a podcast episode on this. Not just one, to be fair. There are hundreds. But this one seemed like the real deal. I’ve yet to listen to it, so I’ll share the link below so we can all listen to it together.

And, as promised, I will now share the inspirational words of Mr. B (with his permission, of course). This, to me, is what friendship is all about. I consider myself to be very fortunate to have been on the receiving end of these words:

I share with you the strive to do better, to be better

I share self-loathing and self-sabotage

I share self awareness.

I share distrust of others.

I share utter devotion to the (very) few.

See you next Tuesday. Drop me an email if you have a topic you’d like me to write about!