I didn’t grow up with sisters. The built in best friends who share our DNA, and maybe even a bedroom. Instead, I was gifted with a softhearted big brother who kind of looks like he could kick your ass. He’s pretty great. But naturally, since being a small child I have sought out deep feminine bonds in which I could unravel all of my knotted thoughts and dig into all those kept under wraps kind of desires.
I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned that I was kind of an odd child. I had high expectations of just about everyone, and couldn’t grasp the flimsy nature of childhood and young adult friendships. There one day and gone the next. Pretty much the sphinx’s riddle to me.
High school through college and even post college I would harbor confusion and hurt over why my closest friends could seemingly take and take, but never manage to find any extra time or love, when the tables turned. Sometimes I still don’t understand to be honest. Even though if we’re being mature about this I am sure there have been countless times, when they have felt the same about me. That I let them down. Didn’t show up, when they needed someone to sit with. Forgot to call to check on that one thing.
In reality, I had been expecting people to love in the same manner I do. I wanted people to show up because I had, and to sit with me while the shades of grey turned back to blues. A trick of the ego we all occasionally trip into. And while we all deserve reciprocal love and care in friendships, there’s also a time for generous loving with no expectations. Sometimes these seasons last longer than we’d like, and we’re left a bit confused, weary, and maybe even bitter. It’s hard to pour out simply because we love someone for who they are because we forget that love always comes back somehow someway even if it isn’t when or how we’d like.
What I didn’t realize was the seeds had dug deep, and our roots had grown slowly down while wrapping inextricably around each other. These roots became more important than ever in the last few years as our dots on the map spread out further and further. Now the roots travel over and under rivers to arrive in desert lands and frozen tundra.
I glance around the map, and different colors flag where people hold my heart. Yellow for the one whose mind glows brightly lit with love and yet, is a fortress of steel. Navy marks the spot for my friend who is braver and fiercer than I can say. She will outrun us all one day once she finds her footing. The warmest of tones for the softest and yet strongest one of them all. Never let kindness and generosity fool you, for she is made of iron. I look at these places, and know without a doubt who I want to be.
And some while ago I realized every time we part they steal away with tiny fragments of me. I don’t ever quite capture my childish spirit just the same without the one of yellow. And my soul never feels so known as, when she who dances in navy has a minute to call. Settling into her vibrant shade of blue I can be purely and utterly as I am right now nothing more or less. Nor do I feel as wholly loved regardless of what I’ve done as with the one whose colors warm any room, or as accepted in my need for solitude and rest. She lets the peaceful part of me be free.
Our friendships are not only places to come home, but also where we find reflections of ourselves as well. Reflections of ourselves, and who we want to become. We find pieces of ourselves coming alive and dancing because only that person knows the song.