Friendships

I have a confession to make. I make a lousy good friend. Other than my husband and family, I don't do friendship well. I'm good at meeting people, making others feel comfortable and having conversations with them, but they seldom become good friends. I have what I'd call lots of friends and acquaintances, but very few are close friends.

I know some people who are constantly surrounded by good friends. They hang out, go for coffee, they call each other on the phone and chat. They talk to each other about all the important things that go on in their lives. They laugh together and cry together. I'm not good at that. In my lifetime, I can probably count maybe three people (excluding my husband) who fall into this category of friendship.

I don't know what it is exactly, but I keep most people at arms-length. They get only so close, before I think, nope, that's close enough. If I were to get really analytical, in a pseudo-psychological sense, it probably has something to do with my relationships with people close to me in my childhood. I've thought about this a lot lately.

My mother died when I was quite young and I have no conscious memory of her. I then got passed back and forth between various relatives, eventually ending up with my father's family (I never ended up actually living with my father). In my preschool years, I remember visiting my maternal grandmother regularly, then one day, I didn't – visit, that is. I now know that it was because she died, but no one ever told me that at the time. She just disappeared from my life. Later on, my maternal aunts and uncles made regular visits, they took me on outings, and I played with my first cousins. Then one day, it stopped. After awhile, I stopped thinking about them and they too, seemed to have disappeared. I lived in a succession of different households with different aunts, uncles and assorted cousins. Each time I moved, it seemed like the previous family just disappeared - only to be seen at family gatherings. In the passing years as my aunts and uncles aged and died, I realized their deaths never seemed all that real because in my mind, they were already gone. Pretty messed up, eh?

(I didn't think I'd wander so far into my family history, but it just spewed forth, so instead of deleting or revising it, I'll just leave it as is.)

Well, to finally get to my point, I think, subconsciously, I've decided that people simply disappear from my life, so there's not much point getting too close. I'm okay with short-term, closer friendships, but back off when I start spending too much time with anyone. It's really quite irrational, but it's a tendency I know I have.

The other thought I had about this friendship thing is that I'm afraid people will find out I'm a big fake and won't want to be friends any more, so I may as well cut it off before they do.

Which one is true? I don't know. Maybe a little of both? Maybe neither? This little confessional may or may not help, but as I mentioned to someone not too long ago, it's cheaper than a shrink.