I Don’t Have To Be Your Friend

Summary: I grew up in an environment I’m not sure still exists today. Maybe it was because of the small towns and rural areas in which we lived or maybe it had something to do with the fact that my father was pastor of the largest, sometimes only church in the area, largest only determined by relative size—120 people was a huge and unusual event. My brother and I were taught to treat everyone we encountered as friends. There were no exceptions, despite the fact we quickly realized that our parents didn’t hold themselves to the same standards. We had an obligation to make friends with everyone. Period. For many years, I assumed that everyone had the same mandate. This was more than being polite, mind you. Saying hi, smiling, waving if you were too far away to speak without yelling, all of those behaviors were for anyone we might recognize, and a smile was always appropriate even when passing a stranger. Being a friend meant actually caring about who people were, what they enjoyed, what interests we might have in common, and spending time together. By the time we reached high school, though, that illusion of being friends with everyone began to dissolve as I realized that, despite my attitude, not everyone wanted to be friends back. In fact, there were a lot of people who didn’t want to be friends at all. I was the preacher’s kid, too well behaved, too involved in music, and too naive regarding sex and other common topics that I had been shielded from. There was plenty of reasons to not like who I was as a teenager, and being the obstinate person I am, I doubled down on those traits rather than trying to resolve them. Then, eventually, along comes social media and the term “friend” gets a new definition, one that doesn’t actually require interaction or shared values, or like interests, or much of anything else. With the advent of social media, friends didn’t have to be people we know at all. In fact, there are a lot of people on most friends’ lists who have never met, never will meet, and have never as much as messaged each other. When asked now if someone is a friend, we have to clarify whether yes, we know that person, or no, they’re only friends on Facebook or Twitter or some other site. I have friends on Facebook who I find interesting but don’t expect our paths to ever cross. I try to keep up with people who were classmates in school, especially those who were friends at one point or another, but with many of those I know I could never continue anything more than a superficial relationship now. The same applies to extended family members, cousins, and such. I feel an obligation to care about how their lives are going, the ups and downs and changes, but rarely am I compelled to interact with any of them. Are any of us true friends? By most general definitions, no, we’re not. We don’t have that kind of relationship. Friendship doesn’t always require direct interaction, but it does require an understanding that, even when we’re silent, I still like you and I still care. And as I get older, the number of people on that list, the number of people I want on that list, grows smaller and smaller. The Disappointing State Of Maturity The changing state of friendship is not something rooted in deep science. There are too many variables, too many differing conditions, to foster any kind of reasonable scientific study as to whether there is a biological or neurological reason for reducing the number of friends we have as we age. There are plenty of practical and psychological reasons, though, and those are rather obvious if one gives the matter a moment’s thought: * Moving* Changing jobs* Getting married* Having children* R...

I Don’t Have To Be Your Friend

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